Excelsior--Remastered
by MissLindaLee
Summary: It's the summer of 2013, and it's been two years since Superman made his debut in Metropolis. Clark is finally getting comfortable in his role as a superhero, while Jonathan and Martha Kent are enjoying a little more peace and quiet around the farm. Little did they know how quickly that was all about to change…. (First in the remastered Angelica Corusca series)
1. Chapter 1

_This series was started in 2003, is currently being remastered, and follows the timeline of the show up until the Season 3 episodes, Exile and part of Phoenix but diverged at the deal between Jonathan Kent and Jor-El. Details that match the show will be explained, but there are many things in this timeline that will be different from how they happened on the show. This Kara Zor-El is not the Laura Vandervoort from the show, but a bit of a all the different incarnations of Kara Zor-El from the different eras. Lois is still the same Lois, but did not meet Clark until they were adults; Jimmy Olsen is not the same Jimmy from the show, but Perry did come to Smallville as he did in "Perry." Again, more details will be divulged over time, but that's all you need to know for right now._

* * *

_June 17, 2013_

A lonely green and blue planet spun lazily on its axis, orbited by a single moon. The planet teamed with majestic wonders: plant and animal life, and over seven billion humans, spread over seven different continents. Despite that large number, very few noticed the spaceship that hurtled past the moon, heading for their planet. Within a matter of minutes, the spaceship hit the planet's atmosphere, glowing fiery white and orange as it rapidly descended.

* * *

_Fort Truman, Kansas - 11:32 PM_

Five miles north of Metropolis, alarms sounded loudly at Fort Truman Air Base. Officers scrambled to their stations in the main communications center, frantically bringing up images on their radar screens. Captain James Williams hurried in and walked over to the nearest station.

"What do we have, Lieutenant?" he asked.

The officer looked troubled as he brought up a radar screen. "Not sure, sir," he answered. "We detected it earlier; it just entered Earth's atmosphere a short few moments ago. It's decreasing too rapidly to be any form of aircraft, and it's moving west to east."

"A meteor?" Williams asked.

"Could be," the lieutenant answered as he tapped the screen. "By all indications, it should be passing overhead any moment now."

Williams stared at the screen for a moment before hurrying outside; several soldiers were already on the tarmac, staring up into the night sky. Williams' eyes adjusted quickly as he looked toward the west, scanning the clear sky. A large, fiery orange object suddenly appeared, lighting up the base as it zoomed only a couple thousand feet overhead; a loud sonic boom was heard a split second after the object passed, shattering windows and rattling Williams and the others to their bones. The object trailed off toward the east, disappearing from sight over the horizon, leaving a thick contrail it its wake.

"Lieutenant."

A nearby officer took his eyes off the sky and stood at attention. "Yes, sir," he said.

"Call General Danvers," William ordered, never taking his eyes off the sky. 'Tell him we have a situation." The officer nodded and saluted, and Williams looked down and gave a quick salute. Williams saluted back, and the lieutenant hurried away. Williams turned back toward the east horizon and narrowed his eyes. He didn't know what he had just seen, but he was determined to find out.

And nothing was going to stop him.

* * *

_Smallville, Kansas - 11:34 PM_

Sherriff Pete Ross pulled his truck out of the Kents' drive and headed down the highway; he had spent the past few hours filling up on Martha's home cooking and spending time with the Kents, something that had become a regular habit for quite a time. Clark would sometimes join them, but most of them time Pete went solo. It didn't bother either Jonathan or Martha; they knew Clark visited as often as he could in between his job at the Daily Planet and his…well, other job.

Pete chuckled as he drove down the dark road, the only light coming from his headlights, listening to his favorite station on the radio. It had been over two years since his best friend went public with his abilities, but Pete still had a hard time believing it. What surprised him even more was how accepting Clark's parents—namely his father—had been about the whole thing and how proud they were of their son.

"I guess saving a crashing airplane in the middle of Metropolis would make *any* parent proud," Pete mused with a smile.

Suddenly, a fiery orange object slammed into the field adjacent to the road, slamming into the ground with the force of a small bomb; it threw debris into the air as it skittered along the field, burrowing a trench over a hundred yards long. Pete slammed on the brakes, and the truck fishtailed across the road before coming to a stop on one side. Shaking, the young man got out and looked over into the field; even in the dark, the trench was clearly visible, the object smoldering in the distance, while small fires dotted the trench like an airport's runway at night.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Pete grabbed a flashlight under his seat and turned it on as he made his way over to the trench. He carefully jumped in and slowly walked the trail, swinging the light from side to side. The beam of light fell on a smoldering object at the end of the trench, and Pete slowly drew closer. His jaw dropped as he recognized the object: a spaceship—just like the ship that brought Clark to Earth, only twice its size.

It was designed a little differently, appearing more like an elongated bubble with fins on tits side and boosters on the back; the bubble part a dark silver and opaque. An octagonal slot was position on the front of the ship, encircled by symbols that Pete instantly recognized as Kryptonian, even though he had no clue of their translation. An object on the ground glinted in the flashlight beam, and Pete trained his light on it; it was a familiar-looking octagonal key. He stepped closer and picked up the key, brushing the dirt off; there were three sets of familiar-looking symbols. The young man got a funny feeling in his stomach, but took a deep breath and put the key near the octagonal slot.

The key flew from his hand, floated over, and hovered over the slot, twisting and rotating before it suddenly stopped and then settled into the slot. The whole ship glowed, and Pete heard a soft sizzling sound as the top of the bubble started melting into a semi liquid goop on the ground. In a few moments, he could see the bottom half of the ship was solid, like one half of a dark silver tube. Nestled inside, among what appeared to be soft, silvery blankets, was an unconscious teenage. She had blonde hair, and wore a white body suit with a white skirt over it and white boots. Across her chest was a silvery emblem—an emblem Pete remembered being burned onto his best friend's chest when they were younger.

"Oh, man," he whispered. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

(End of Chapter 1)


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan and Martha had finished cleaning the kitchen and started up the stairs when the phone rang. The couple stopped and stared at each other, wondering who would be calling at that time of night. Martha was closer than her husband and hurried over; she answered it on the second ring.

"Hello?" she asked. She smiled when she recognized the voice on the other. "Pete, hi." She furrowed her eyebrows as she heard Pete talking rapidly. "Pete, slow down; I can't understand a word you're saying." She patiently listened then her eyebrows went up. "You found **what**?" She glanced up at her husband, who had left his spot on the stairs and joined her. "Yes, I'll let them know. And, Pete—please be careful."

"What's going on with Pete?" Jonathan asked, curious.

"He's on Route 8, near Miller's field," Martha explained. "He said he found something."

"What did he find?" Jonathan asked. Martha opened her mouth, but she couldn't seem to find the right words. Jonathan put his hands on her shoulders. "What is it, sweetheart?"

Martha looked up at her husband, her expression a mixture of confusion and fear. "He said he found a spaceship," she said simply.

* * *

Pete paced slowly in front of the ship; it had felt like hours had passed since getting off the phone with the Kents, when it had only been a few minutes. A familiar whooshing sound grew louder above him, and he instinctively looked up; a red and blue-clad figure descended from the night sky, landing near the sheriff.

"Must have called you as soon as I hung up," Pete said to his friend, relieved, even as he snickered at his friend's outfit. "Sorry, Clark, but I still can't believe people look up to you in that costume."

Superman sighed and rolled his eyes before his eyes fell on the ship and its precious cargo. His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly, seeing the familiar Kryptonian symbols on the ship and the girl's chest; he forgot about everything else as he slowly approached the ship, kneeling beside it and just stared at the young girl.

"Who is she?" he asked.

"Not sure," Pete replied. "That ship crashed a few minutes ago, it did this weird bubbling thing and half of it melted away, and she was there. That's when I called your parents, and I guess they called you right after we hung up." He got a funny twinge in his stomach as he saw the symbol on the girl's chest—and of what it reminded him. "So, what do you think of those symbols? They real?"

"They appear to be," Superman said, gently brushing his fingers over the symbol.

"You know," Pete said, smiling a little, "when I said you had an evil twin out there somewhere, I didn't mean I wanted both of you **here." ** Clark gave him a look, and Pete held up his hands in defense. "Okay, okay, sorry." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So, I guess that answers where she came from, huh?"

Superman opened his mouth, even though he was unsure of his answer, but then he heard the sound of a familiar truck engine. He looked up to see a pair of headlights approaching; he looked relieved as he recognized the red truck as it stopped behind Pete's, and Jonathan got out. He saw his father pause momentarily before following the trench over. He stopped at the end, his eyes falling on his son kneeling beside the ship...and an unconscious teenage girl inside.

"Pete," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, his guard up, "you said nothing about finding someone **in** the ship."

"I thought just **finding** another ship would be cause enough for alarm," Pete replied wryly.

Jonathan glared briefly at the younger man before looking back at his son; he tried not to appear bothered as he watched his son kneeling over the young woman in an almost protective nature. "Is she dead?" he asked, trying to mask his suspicions.

Superman watched her for a few moments, listening; his hearing detected a strong heartbeat and soft breathing. "She's just sleeping," he replied, relieved. He turned his head to the west, hearing something far away.

"What is it, son?" Jonathan asked, turning to look westward.

Superman stood up and slightly squinted his eyes. He could clearly see military vehicles over seventy miles away. "Military," he said. "We need to go—now." He spun in a tight circle for a few seconds before stopping. He wore a dark blue shirt, jeans, and white athletic shoes; his hair was styled differently, and his black-rimmed glasses rested comfortably on his nose.

"What about her?" Pete asked, nodding at the girl.

Clark leaned over and gently picked up the girl in his arms. "She's coming with us." He saw his father's troubled expression, and he knew why Jonathan looked bothered. "Dad, we can't just leave her here."

"Why not?" Jonathan asked harshly; he saw the hurt look in his son's eyes and immediately regretted what he had asked. He sighed, his expression softening. "I'm sorry, Clark; I didn't mean that the way it sounded, but we all know what those symbols mean—and every time they've shown up, they've brought this family nothing but hell."

"Look, Dad, I get it," Clark said, his voice calm as he tried to mask the anger he felt from his dad's statement. "You hate Jor-El, and so do I, but she's not him."

"And that's the only thing we know about her," Jonathan said, unconvinced.

"Not really," Clark said. "I translated the symbols on her ship; I know why she's here." He glanced down at the unconscious girl, holding her securely. "She was sent here so I could protect her."

* * *

"Are you sure you translated it correctly?" Jonathan asked as he paced the length of the living room. Martha and Pete stood near the entrance to the kitchen, while Clark sat on the edge of the couch, watching the girl with awe as she lay, still sleeping soundly. "What if it said something else?"

"Dad, I know how to read Kryptonian symbols," Clark said patiently but still annoyed. "It says 'treasure'; not 'terror,' not 'trouble.'"

"And what about the rest of the symbols?" Jonathan pressed. "Half of them were damaged beyond recognition."

"I know," Clark replied, a little exasperated with his father, "but I recognized the words 'Krypton' and 'Kal-El' and 'treasure for your world' He shook his head, almost regretting bringing the girl to the farmhouse. "Dad, what more do you need to know?"

"Plenty," Jonathan said firmly. He saw Clark's frustrated expression and sighed. "Look, Clark, about what I said earlier-"

"Dad, I get it," Clark said a little more harshly than he'd intended, "but you're already judging her, and you don't even know her."

"And neither do you," Jonathan said, working hard to keep his voice in check. "We don't even know her name or if she's really from Krypton."

"What about the message on the ship," Clark asked, "or the symbol on her chest? Those are Kryptonian symbols, Dad."

"If she's really from Krypton," Jonathan replied, "then how come she isn't older? Krypton blew up almost thirty years ago, yet she doesn't look to be more than sixteen years old."

Clark sighed. "I don't know," he admitted, a little annoyed. "Maybe some of them left before Krypton was destroyed."

"And what about that symbol on her chest?" Jonathan pressed. "That's the symbol for **your** family."

"I don't know," Clark repeated, frustrated. "Is that what you want to hear, Dad? I don't know, okay?" He kept his eyes focused on the girl, missing the hurt look in his father's eyes.

"Clark," Martha spoke up gently, seeing the tension growing between her husband and son. She crossed the room and sat on the coffee table and put a hand on Clark's shoulder. "We all understand how much you want there to be someone else like you, but we just want you to be careful, okay?"

"I know," Clark replied, his tone softening, "and I will, but I don't think-" A small moan interrupted him, and he looked down as the girl stirred. Pete edged closer, and even Jonathan moved toward the couch as the young girl opened her eyes; they were dull blue and slowly looked around, confused and dazed. Her gaze fell on Clark's, and she appeared confused for a moment before she spoke in an unfamiliar language.

"Kie mi?" she asked in a soft and timid voice.

"What did she say?" Martha asked.

The girl looked over at Martha then quickly noticed Pete and Jonathan. She gasped as she scrambled to her feet and backed away from them. Clark and Martha got to their feet, but no one moved, trying not to startle her. The young girl backed up into the piano, slamming the keys with her hands. Startled, she jumped and cried out low in her throat, swallowing the sound, unable to articulate her terror; she closed her eyes in fear, missing the flash of pain in each pair of eyes.

Clark slowly approached her. "Hey, it's okay," he said, speaking softly. "You're safe here; you don't have to be scared." He could see the terror in her eyes, like she was too scared to look away from him. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Kie mi?" she repeated. "Mi fari gxi al terglobo?"

Clark's heart leapt as he finally recognized the language. He glanced briefly at his parents and Pete before looking back at the girl; he took a deep breath before speaking. "Vi vot," he said slowly, stumbling a little.

"'Vi vot'?" the girl repeated, confused.

"Vi voi," Clark corrected himself quickly. "Vi voi. Ne oni estas al vi."

"Clark, what are you saying?" Martha asked.

"I told her she was safe," Clark said, keeping his eyes locked with the girl's, "in Kryptonese." He couldn't help but smile a little more, trying not to get his hope up. "Vi de Krypton?"

The girl nodded. "Jes de Argo Urbo en Krypton," she replied.

"She says she's from Argo City, Krypton," Clark said, translating the gir's words.

"Well, that answers that question," Pete muttered.

"Mia nomo estas Kara," the girl continued. "Kara Zor-El, da la Doma da El."

Clark's smile faltered as his mouth opened slightly, not sure he had heard her correctly. "'La Doma da El?'" he repeated.

Kara nodded. "Mi por mia kuzo, Kal-El," she replied, "hi protekti mi." She noticed how he just stared at her with what appeared to be awe, but she didn't find it strange. "Fari vi koni li? Estas tio kial paroli Kryptonese?"

"Mi Kal-El," Clark said softly, almost whispering, as his smile grew wider. Kara stared at Clark, hesitant, but then he held his hand out to her, and Kara knew he was telling the truth. Wordlessly, she flung herself at him, hugging him tightly around the waist, as she buried her head in his chest, crying into his shirt. Clark was a little startled, but he put his arms around her, holding her tightly, staring at the top of her head in wonder, utter shock and fascination, and serious protectiveness.

"Clark, what is going on?" Jonathan demanded. "Who is she?"

Clark looked up at his parents and Pete, and they could all see an expression on his face they had never seen before. "Dad, Mom, Pete," he said, "this is Kara Zor-El," he glanced down at her, still grinning, "my cousin."

(End of Chapter 2)


	3. Chapter 3

"'Cousin'?" Martha asked, stunned. She stared between Clark and Kara, then glanced over at her husband and Pete. Both men appeared just as shocked as she felt by Clark's revelation, but Martha knew Jonathan wouldn't just accept the news without proof.

"She needs to prove it," Jonathan said firmly.

"Dad," Clark replied in disbelief.

"Clark," Jonathan said, unfaltering, "just because she speaks Kryptonese and has Kryptonian symbols on her ship, we're just supposed to believe her name is Kara, and she's your cousin?"

"Why don't you trust me?" Kara asked softly as she pulled back, still clinging to Clark, and looked over at Jonathan, her speech unsure and halting.

"You know English?" Clark asked, a little startled. Kara nodded up at him.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Martha gently asked.

"I was scared," Kara answered as she glanced at Jonathan. She was considerably shorter than Clark—maybe about a foot shorter—but the way she stood, her eyes big and bright with fear and hurt as she clung to his son, made her look even smaller. Jonathan felt a twinge of guilt as he sighed, softening his expression.

"Kara," he said, his voice calmer and more soothing, "I'm sorry I scared you, but we haven't had very good experiences with anything Kryptonian around here," he glanced briefly at Clark, "except for Clark here." He glanced back at Kara, feeling conflicted: he didn't fully trust the girl, but he also knew Clark was not about to leave her side—and he didn't want to lose his son, no matter what; he glanced at his wife, silently asking her what they should do.

"Clark, why don't you and Kara stay here while your father and I make some tea?" Martha suggested. She noticed her husband's troubled expression, but she gave him a look; he briefly nodded and headed to the kitchen. "Pete, would you please join us?" Pete followed Jonathan, and Martha glanced back at her son; Clark gave her a grateful look, and she gave him a small smile before she made her way into the kitchen. She saw her husband and Pete standing at the island, but she walked over to the stove and retrieved the kettle.

"What are you up to, Martha Kent?" Jonathan asked as she filled the kettle with water.

"I'm giving them a little space," Martha replied as she put the kettle back and turned on the burner.

"So, you believe her?"

"I don't see why we shouldn't," Martha said, retrieving five mugs from the cabinet. She saw Jonathan's expression and sighed, putting the mugs on the counter. "Jonathan, I know how you feel about Clark's people, but the way Kara is behaving is completely opposite of what we've seen from Jor-El…you saw the terror in her eyes when she accidentally hit the piano keys; you can't fake that kind of reaction."

"I know," Jonathan replied as Martha retrieved tea bags and putting them in the mugs, "but how can she be who she says she is? Her age alone doesn't make sense."

"I don't know," Martha replied honestly as the kettle whistled; she poured the water and let it seep, "but I think she might feel a little more comfortable talking to Clark for a few minutes without us around."

Pete's cellphone rang, and the sheriff quickly pulled it from his pants pocket; he recognized the number and answered. "Givens, what's up?" he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows, listening. "Yeah, I'll be there soon." He hung up, putting his phone back in his pants pocket. "I gotta run."

"What's wrong?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, the military that Clark saw are almost here," Pete explained. "Givens said a Captain James Williams at Fort Truman just contacted the office; he's coming to investigate a possible meteor landing; I better go and meet up with them." He saw the concerned expressions on the Kents' face. "Look, I'll keep an eye on them." He glanced into the living room and saw Clark and Kara talking softly. "Keep me posted on her, okay?" He nodded and headed out the kitchen door, leaving the Kents alone.

"We have to let them know what's going on," Martha said, looking concerned. Jonathan nodded, and the two grabbed four of the mugs and headed back into the living room. They saw Clark and Kara still talking softly, but Kara saw the Kents and immediately grew quiet, looking away from them and sort of drawing in on herself. Martha walked over to them and handed Clark both of the mugs; he turned to Kara, offering her one.

"It's okay," he said gently. "It's really good." Kara looked hesitant, but she took the offered mug.

"Thank you," she said softly, cradling the mug in her hands. The warmth was calming, and she carefully took a sip; the liquid tasted better than anything she could remember, and it was soothing to her parched throat.

"What's wrong?" Clark asked, seeing the concerned expressions on his parents' faces.

"The military is almost here," Jonathan replied. "They want to investigate the place where Kara landed; they think it's a meteor crash. Pete's going to meet them there and keep us informed. Clark, I think you better move Kara's ship out of the way of prying eyes." Clark nodded and got to his feet; blurred out the kitchen door, returning before anyone could say anything.

"Okay, ship's in the storm cellar," he said as he sat down next to Kara. "I put it in the corner and covered it with tarps and old boxes." He reached for his mug and brought it to his lips, but he stopped when he saw Kara staring at him, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open. "What's wrong?"

"I was told about your abilities," Kara said, "but it's still…." She took another head slightly before taking another sip before looking at Martha. "This is really good, thank you."

"You're welcome," Martha replied, smiling a little. She felt a twinge of motherly protectiveness for the young girl, despite not knowing a lot about her, but she dared not reach out to her at the moment; she knew Kara was still wary of anyone besides Clark.

"Kara, would you mind answering a few questions for us?" Jonathan asked.

"You still don't trust me?" Kara asked in disbelief as she put her mug on the coffee table.

"We just want to know more about you," Martha answered. "Your family…why you're here." She saw Kara glance at Clark with a pleading look—almost like she was scared to answer any questions—and Clark nodded. "Clark?"

"Well, we're cousins because our fathers were brothers," Clark explained. He saw the dark expression cross his father's eyes, and quickly continued. "His name was Zor-El, and he was a scientist, just like Jor-El."

"Were they close?" Jonathan asked warily.

"They worked together," Clark explained. "They learned about Krypton's impending destruction, and they worked on a plan together to try to preserve the Kryptonian race: Jor-El wanted to save only me, Zor-El went with a whole city."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Martha said hopefully. "Is that how you survived Krypton's explosion, Kara?"

Kara shook her head. "I was born decades after Krypton was gone," she said. "Argo City survived the explosion because of the technology my father put in place, but it was heavily damaged…there were only a handful of survivors, including my parents."

"So, why were you sent here?" Jonathan asked. "If your parents survived, why send you to Earth and ask Clark to keep you safe?"

"My parents didn't send me here," Kara replied. "Rok-Var did. He was one of the few survivors in Argo City; he was a scientist as well—and my teacher. He built my ship so I could come here."

"So, you just ran away from your parents?" Jonathan asked, his tone a mixture of disbelief and anger. He didn't have a high opinion of Kryptonians, but he held a much dimmer view when it came to disrespectful children.

"I had to," Kara said tearfully.

"Why?" Jonathan demanded.

"Because they were going to kill me!" Kara blurted out, her eyes bright with tears. Her chin quivered, and she tried to keep her composure as she hugged herself.

"'Kill you'?" Clark repeated, shocked as he put his mug down. He and Kara had talked about a few things while his parents were in the kitchen, but she hadn't once mentioned anything about her parents trying to kill her. "Kara, what are you talking about? You said your father saved Argo City from Krypton's destruction."

"Saving the city was just a cover to hide who he really was," Kara said softly. "He was a monster, but since there weren't many survivors, he didn't have to pretend around them—anyone who got in his way was killed. I came along much later, but my parents didn't love me; they resented me for not being a boy…and they reminded me of that 'failure' every day. Rok-Var kept me as safe as he possibly could while he built my ship in secret. He had learned about Kal-El by overhearing my father; he programmed the ship to send me here...so I could be safe." Her composure broke, and she started sobbing.

Clark wrapped his arms around the crying girl, holding her tightly. "And you will be," he said softly, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "I won't let anything happen to you." He glanced up at his parents: his mother looked devastated by Kara's revelation and on the verge of crying, and his father stared back at him with a new level of anger and disgust in his eyes. Clark knew that wasn't directed at Kara anymore-it was directed at Kara's parents.

"Clark, why don't we take Kara up to your room?" Martha suggested, her voice wavering a little. It was late, and she could sense that Kara—all of them, really—could use some much-needed rest.

"What about the military?" Clark asked, still holding onto his cousin protectively.

"Pete's handling that," Jonathan replied as calmly as possible. "Kara's ship is in the storm cellar, and if—"

"My key!" Kara interrupted, looking up at Jonathan. Her eyes were red from crying, and her cheeks were streaked with tears, but she appeared frightened. "Was it with my ship? It's the power source for the ship. If it falls into the wrong hands…."

"It's right here, don't worry," Jonathan said as he calmly reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small object wrapped in his handkerchief; he unwrapped it, holding up the metal octagonal key. Going with his gut that it would calm her down, he crossed the room and handed the key to her. "Here you go." He saw the relief wash over Kara's face as she took the key.

"Thank you," she said softly, cradling that precious piece of metal in her hands.

"Now, since Kara's ship is safely hidden," Jonathan continued, "and Kara has her key back, I think Martha's suggestion of trying to get some rest is a good idea," he nodded at Kara's outfit, "as would getting Kara into some different clothes."

"What about the military?" Clark asked. "What if they start poking around, asking questions?" He glanced at Kara protectively, determined to keep her safe at all cost.

"If Kara changes," Jonathan said, "and we all remain calm, then I'm sure they won't be suspicious of her at all."

"I have some clothes upstairs that might fit her," Martha suggested, "and she can sleep in Clark's old room." She noticed Kara's uncertain expression and gave her a warm smile; she was grateful the young girl smiled slightly back, and held out her hand. "Kara, would you like to come with me?"

Kara looked a little hesitant, and she glanced at Clark; he smiled and nodded his encouragement. The young girl took a deep breath and slowly got up; she went over to Martha and took her hand, allowing herself to be led out of the living room and up the stairs.

"And what if anyone from town asks about her?" Clark asked after making sure his mother and cousin were out of earshot. "I know she's going to have to stay hidden until this thing with the military blows over, but we can't keep her locked up forever." He glanced at his father with a hopeful expression.

"I know," Jonathan replied, recognizing his son's look; he sighed. "Clark, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Dad, she's my only living relative," Clark said, getting to his feet, "and she was sent here so I could protect her—and I intend to do that."

"And how do you plan on protecting her in Metropolis," Jonathan asked, "or explaining her sudden appearance to everyone?"

"I wasn't talking about taking her to Metropolis," Clark replied. He shrugged his shoulders as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I was actually thinking she could maybe…stay here with you guys."

* * *

"Okay, sweetie," Martha said as she came into Clark's old room with some folded clothes and closed the door behind her. Kara stood in the center of the room and looked around in awe; there were so many things she didn't recognize, so many things that fascinated her, and she wanted to ask about each and every thing. Martha smiled as she walked over the girl. "So, what do you think?"

"It's a nice room," Kara replied, "a lot nicer than mine." She walked over and fingered the soft blue blanket. "It's so soft…and colorful," she looked around wistfully, "just like everything else. I've never seen so many colors before." She sat on the bed and bounced a little. "Or felt anything this soft before."

"You didn't have a bed?" Martha asked.

"Yes, but nothing like this."

"Did things really change that much after the explosion?" Martha asked as she sat beside Kara.

Kara tilted her head, curious. "What do you mean?"

"Well, when Clark was younger, he found a medallion that belonged to Jor-El," Martha explained. "He learned that Krypton had so many colors that humans couldn't even begin to imagine all of them."

Kara nodded, remembering. "Yeah, Rok-Var told me about that," she said, "but there weren't many colors in Argo City after I was born. My father preferred a dark and sterile environment, so he forbade bright colors and stuff like that."

Martha felt sympathetic for the young girl as she reached over and put her arm around the young girl. Kara winced a little, and Martha pulled her arm away.

"I-I'm sorry," Martha replied quickly. "I didn't realize I was hurting you."

Kara rubbed her forearm gently. "It's okay," she replied quietly. She nodded at the clothes in Martha's lap. "Are those the clothes?"

Martha opened her mouth, a little troubled by Kara's change in demeanor, but she didn't want to push it. She forced a gentle smile and nodded as she unfolded the shirt and held it up for Kara to see. It was large and red, with a large crow on the front. "This is one of Clark's old nightshirts," she explained, "from when he was in high school." She handed it to Kara, who studied it while Martha held up the bottoms-a pair of large, faded gray sweatpants. "And these are a pair of my old sweatpants."

"You really don't mind me wearing these?" Kara asked as she eyed the odd attire.

"Not at all," Martha replied. "You ready to change?" Kara nodded and carefully removed her boots, setting them aside before wriggling her toes, working the stiffness out of them. She glanced at the clothes, then at Martha, and the older woman understood.

"Here, let me help," Martha said. She carefully helped Kara out of her shirt and gasped softly; Kara had two deep bruises on her upper arms and three on her abdomen, just below her ribs. "Kara…where did you get these bruises?"

"My parents," Kara replied sadly as she looked down, ashamed. "My father, mainly."

"Oh, honey," Martha said tearfully as she leaned over and gently hugged the young girl. Kara stiffened a little, and Martha was worried she had hurt her again, but then Kara relaxed under Martha's touch. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

As Martha started stroking Kara's hair, Kara closed her eyes. A complete stranger was showing her more compassion and love—something she had so desperately wanted for years-than her own mother ever had. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wrapped her arms around Martha, resting her head on the woman's shoulder. Martha's blinked back the tears in her eyes as she just held the young girl in her arms for a few more minutes before gently pulling back.

"Why don't we get you changed, now, okay?" Martha said softly, smiling. Kara nodded, and Martha helped her into Clark's shirt, careful not to cause Kara any more pain. The shirt hung loose, but it covered everything that needed to be covered and allowed for some breathing room. The sweatpants were a bit of a challenge, but Martha expertly adjusted the drawstring until it was snug around Kara's waist; she rolled up the cuffs right above Kara's ankles so she wouldn't trip on the fabric.

"There we go," Martha continued. "Now, let's get you to bed, okay?" She pulled back the comforter and sheets on the bed and patted the mattress. Kara sat down on the bed as someone knocked on the door. "Come in."

The door opened and Jonathan poked his head in. "Mind if we join you?" he asked, smiling as they walked.

Martha smiled. "Sure," she replied. "Kara's ready for bed; I was just about to tuck her in."

Clark noticed Kara was wearing his old high school shirt; it was about five sizes too big, making her look smaller than she already was, but Clark thought she looked adorable. "Do you like my shirt, Kara?" he asked.

"It's very nice," she said, nodding. "Thank you for letting me wear it."

Clark smiled. "No problem." He glanced at his mother. "Would you mind if tucked her in, Mom?"

"Sure, Clark," Martha said, understanding. She went to stand with her husband while Clark joined his cousin. He helped turn the young girl sideways and put her legs under the comforter.

"Now, just lay down and relax," he said softly, his voice soothing. Kara looked uncertain, but she slowly lay down, resting her head on the pillows. She smiled as Clark covered her with the sheets and comforter. The feeling of the soft fabrics felt better than anything she could remember, and she began relaxing; she yawned and stretched as she nestled under the covers, then she sighed and closed her eyes.

Clark just sat and watched Kara, still mesmerized by the fact that she was his family. He instinctively listened to her heartbeat and breathing as they slowed down; within a matter of minutes, she was completely asleep. Clark smiled and gently smoothed a few strands of hair out of her face, then turned and looked up at his parents. They stood near the door, smiling.

"Would it be okay if I stayed with her for a while?" Clark asked.

"Of course," Jonathan answered.

"We'll be back in a few minutes," Martha added quickly. Jonathan gave his wife an odd look, but she grabbed her husband's arm and herded him out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Clark looked back down at his cousin and just watched her sleep.

* * *

Jonathan was more than just a little confused as Martha led him down the stairs to the kitchen. "Martha, what is it?" he asked.

"It's Kara," Martha replied quietly.

"What about her?" Jonathan asked.

Martha sighed. "When I was helping here change I…." She trailed off as tears formed in her eyes.

Jonathan put his hands on his wife's shoulders, looking down in concern. "Sweetheart, what is it?"

Martha had to swallow and take a deep breath. "I saw these bruises on her arms and on her stomach. She said they were because of her parents." She looked up at her husband tearfully. "Jonathan, I know Kara said her parents hated her, but I never thought they'd…."

Jonathan held her closely, holding her tightly as he rubbed her back with one hand and her hair with the other; his jaw was clenched, and he was thankful Martha couldn't the murderous expression on his face. Any uncertainty he had about Kara vanished in that moment, and Jonathan knew he—just like his son—would protect Kara at any cost.

Martha pulled back and looked up at her husband. "What are we going to do?" she asked.

Jonathan stared down at her for a few moments. He took a deep breath and glanced at the staircase, his expression softening, then he looked back at Martha. "We'll have to tell Clark," he said. "He needs to know."

"Can it wait until tomorrow?" Martha asked. "It's been a long day already, and I don't want Clark going to bed with that knowledge; it'll just upset him."

Jonathan stared at his wife and smiled. Even after all those years, she never ceased to amaze him with her wisdom and advice; he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Of course we can," he said softly. "Until then, why don't we figure out where we're going to put Clark for the night?"

"I don't think he's going to be leaving Kara's side," Martha smiled. Jonathan chuckled, and Martha looked a little uncertain. "Jonathan, are you okay with this?"

"With what?" Jonathan asked.

"Kara being here," Martha answered. "I know you're not too thrilled with other Kryptonians after what happened with Jor-El…."

Jonathan put his hands on her shoulders. "Martha, I know I might have been suspicious of her earlier, but she's here, and there's not much we can do about it at the moment. Like you said, Clark won't be leaving her side any time soon." He tilted his head. "Are *you* okay with it?"

Martha nodded. "She's such a sweet girl . . . and she's so young, Jonathan. She can't be more than fifteen years old."

Jonathan smiled. "We'll figure it out, sweetie. I promise." He kissed her before he and Martha made sure the downstairs was secure, locking doors and turning off lights. Hand and hand, they headed up the stairs and down the hall to Clark's bedroom; Jonathan knocked softly. There was no answer, so he slowly opened the door, and he and Martha smiled when they looked inside.

Clark had scooted onto the bed, next to Kara, and he held her in his arms as she slept, her head resting against his chest, his cheek resting on top of her head. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and regular; he was sound asleep.

Jonathan and Martha smiled to each other as they walked in. While Jonathan removed Clark's socks and shoes, Martha retrieved a handmade quilt from the closet and carefully covered their son. She smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead before she and Jonathan quietly headed for the door. Jonathan flipped the light switch off, flooding the room in darkness. The two parents watched for a few more seconds before Jonathan quietly shut the door, and he and Martha headed off to bed.

(End of Chapter 3)


	4. Chapter 4

Kara slowly stirred and yawned before slowly opening her eyes. A bright light blinded her, causing her to blink repeatedly. She squinted, letting her eyes adjust, as she yawned again and looked around again. It took a few moments to get her bearings: she was in her cousin's old bedroom; sunlight streamed through the window, bathing her in its bright, warm light. She smiled as she he opened them wider as she smiled; she felt more relaxed and rested than she could ever remember. The smile faded from her face when her hearing picked up an odd noise in her ear. It vaguely reminded her of the fans in the air refresher deep below Argo City's surface when the intake valves had sucked up small fragments of rock and dust.

For a moment, Kara felt her stomach turn to ice as she wondered if everything she had experienced—her cousin, Jonathan and Martha, the clothes, the bed—had been just a dream. She heard the odd noise again and furrowed her eyebrows; she craned her neck in the direction the sound came from. Her eyes widened when she saw Clark sleeping beside her. He had his arms around her, holding her, and Kara was surprised she hadn't felt them before that moment. His head leaned against the headboard, his eyes closed, and his mouth was slightly open, his tongue poking out a bit. She listened for a few more moments and realized the odd noise came from him.

Kara carefully extracted herself from his arms and sat up on her knees, staring at her sleeping cousin. She tilted her head before leaning over, her nose inches from him, and watched him breathe deeply; the odd noise followed. She nodded, understanding, as she reached over and gently pushed his chin up, closing his mouth. The annoying sound stopped, and Kara smiled, satisfied.

Still asleep, Clark mumbled something about letting the cows feed themselves as he turned towards Kara, smacked his lips a few times, and then settled in. The young girl frowned when he started making that odd noise again—with his mouth close. She sighed and leaned over, hearing the sound from his throat, and she figured the movement of air was causing that sound; she smiled when she came to the conclusion that getting rid of the air movement would get rid of the sound. Careful not to wake her cousin, she pressed his nostrils shut with her fingers, figuring he had an internal off button to shut a valve; she let go, but the noise didn't stop.

Careful not to wake her cousin she leaned over and pressed his nose with her index finger, figuring there was an internal off button to shut a valve, preventing air movement. She let go, but the noise didn't stop. She sighed, not easily swayed from something she put her mind to. Sticking the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, she pressed his nose again; nothing. Figuring it must be a repetitive process, she kept pressing her cousin's nose.

Clark's nose twitched like an oversized rabbit's and he smacked a little; Kara paused for a second, but when he sighed and relaxed, she started again: pinch…twitch…pinch…twitch…pinch, pinch…twi—Kara jumped as Clark's eyes suddenly opened, and he looked around, confused. They met hers, and her cousin slowly smiled sleepily in recognition.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeey," he said softly, his voice full of wonder and affection.

"Oh, it finally stopped," Kara replied, smiling brightly.

"Huh?" Clark asked as he propped himself up on his side.

"You were making an odd noise," Kara said. She gave a quick imitation. "I stopped it."

Clark chuckled as he sat up and tucked his knees up to his chest; he noticed her eyes had turned a brighter, more vivid, blue. "You like you got a good night's sleep."

"Much more than I've gotten in a long time," Kara admitted. She sighed as he looked around the room. "You have a very nice room, Kal." She glanced at her cousin. "How old are you now?"

"Twenty six," Clark answered. She tilted her head confused, and he understood why. "Earth years, not amzets."

"Good," Kara replied, "because you don't look **that** old."

"How old are you?" Clark asked, curious.

"In Earth time?" Kara asked. Clark nodded, and Kara pursed her lips. "Um…if my calculations are correct, then fifteen years and a half years, roughly."

"Oh," Clark said slowly, "oh…boy." He rubbed his hand over his face, knowing that he and his parents were going to be in for an interesting experience once her Kryptonian physiology kicked in.

"What's wrong?" Kara asked.

"Kara, remember last night," Clark replied slowly. "You weren't surprised when I blurred off; you knew about my abilities." Kara nodded. "What do you know about my abilities?"

"I was told all Kryptonians have abilities under a yellow sun," Kara replied. "Rok-Var said I'd have them too once my body absorbed enough solar radiation."

"Did he tell you what abilities you'd be getting?" Clark asked cautiously.

"Immense strength, speed, invulnerability," Kara asked, "I think something about shooting fire from my eyes and ice from my mouth," she smiled a little, looking wistful, "being able to fly." She looked at Clark. "Is that true?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah," he said, "and my strength and speed were already in place by the time I was your age." He raised an eyebrow. "So…how do you feel? Do you feel any different?"

Kara tilted her head, then she smiled sheepishly. "I feel hungry."

Clark smiled and chuckled before glancing at the door; he sniffed, smelling a familiar odor wafting through the. "I think Mom has breakfast waiting for us," he said. "And from the smell of it, I think it's pancakes."

"What are pancakes?" Kara asked.

Clark grinned as he got to his feet; he helped Kara to hers and then turned his back to her and stooped a little. "Climb on."

"Huh?" Kara asked.

"Climb on my back." He glanced over his shoulder and saw her reluctance. "It's okay, Kara." Kara hesitated, but then took a deep breath and climbed onto Clark's back; she wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her legs, supporting her weight. He thought back to when his dad would gallop like a horse all the way to the kitchen, but he wasn't sure Kara would be as giggly as he had been. He walked out of the room calmly, descending the stairs to the kitchen.

"Good morning," he said to his mother as she faced the stove, cooking.

Martha turned around, stopped short, and slowly smiled. She watched as Clark walked over to the kitchen table and deposited Kara into one of the chairs. He took the chair next to her as Martha came over with a fresh plate of pancakes.

"Good morning to you, too," Martha said as she sat the plate in the middle of the table. The syrup and butter were already on the table, along with forks and plates. Martha took her chair at the end of the table and Clark divvied up the pancakes between him and his cousin. "So, did you two sleep okay?"

"Yep," Clark replied as he lathered his pancakes with butter and poured a ridiculously large amount of syrup over the top. Kara watched and imitated him, even gobbling the food in the exact manner as her. Martha just watched the pair with a motherly smile as she watched.

"I'm glad," she replied.

"So, where's Dad?" Clark asked after swallowing a mouthful of food.

"He's out in the field," Martha answered, "working with the tractor." She glanced over at Kara, who was too busy eating to notice her worried look, but Clark noticed it immediately.

"Mom?" he asked.

"Kara, honey," Martha said, looking at the young woman. Kara looked up, her cheeks bulging with food. "Have you ever seen a tractor before?" Kara shook her head, and Martha smiled. "Well, I think Jonathan would be happy to show you what one is."

Kara quickly swallowed, smiling. "Really?"

"Sure," Martha replied as she got to her feet, and Kara followed her out on to the porch. Martha pointed to the field beyond the barn. "Just follow the gravel ground past the red building there, and there's a wooden gate there. Open it and walk through into the field. Jonathan will be out there with a big machine with very big wheels."

"Okay," Kara replied as she bounded off the porch. Martha watched her as she made her way toward the field. Clark came up behind her, and the two watched the young girl as she entered the field.

"Mom, what's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Martha sighed as she looked up at her son. "There's something about Kara you need to know."

* * *

Kara knew she should be repulsed to be walking on unprocessed soil barefoot, but she didn't care as she looked around, smiling, before making her way into the field. The feel of the smooth rocks and dirt, the cool grass with the water droplets making it a bit slippery…they were all brand new but wonderful sensations for her. She spotted small, dark patches sporadically on the ground with a peculiar odor to them; Kara didn't know what they were, but she had a strong feeling she shouldn't step in them. She heard a strange noise and looked in the distance; just over the rise, Jonathan sat on what must have been what Martha had called "tractor" as it slowly puttered loudly through the field. Fascinated, Kara trotted over to get a closer look.

Jonathan breathed in the fresh morning air as it mingled with the familiar odors of the farm, and he smiled; he never got tired of them, even after all these years. Sighing with content, he looked at the panel and saw the needle for the gas gauge pointed near empty. He furrowed his eyebrows, knowing he had just filled it up before leaving, and tapped the glass; the needle shot back over to the F. Satisfied, he looked up and saw Kara standing about ten feet in front of him. His heart jumped in his throat, and Jonathan slammed on the brakes; the tractor halted less than a foot in front of the young girl. The farmer didn't bother waiting as he quickly switched off the engine and hopped down from the machine; he hurried over to Kara and grabbed her gently by the shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked, breathless, worry written all over his face.

Kara furrowed her eyebrows, confused. "Why wouldn't I be?" she asked. She glanced at the tractor. "Is this the tractor?"

Jonathan stared at her; he couldn't believe how calm she was, considering she had barely missed being plowed into the ground like manure. Part of him was a little upset with her, but he knew she didn't know better.

"Kara," he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice calm and controlled, "sweetie, you can't do that, okay?"

"Do what?" Kara asked.

"Get in front of the tractor like that," Jonathan answered. "You could have been hurt if I had hit you."

Kara looked immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know. I just want to see it…."

"It's okay," Jonathan replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "Now, why are you out here without any shoes on?"

"Martha sent me out here," Kara explained. "She said you would show me the tractor." She looked worried that Jonathan would tell her he was busy or to go away, but she still hesitantly peeked around Jonathan at the unusual machinery.

Jonathan chuckled. "I can do that," he said, "but I don't want you out here without any shoes."

"But I don't have any shoes," Kara said softly, "except my boots."

"I'm sure Martha has a pair she can lend you," Jonathan replied. "Now, go get changed and get some shoes on, then I'll show you anything you want to know about the tractor, okay?"

"Okay," Kara replied, smiling, before she turned and headed back the way she came as Jonathan climbed back on the tractor. As he trotted through the field back to the fence, she spotted a group of odd-looking creatures lumbering into the field from a connected fenced in area. Fascinated, she stopped to watch them for a few moments before her curiosity getting the better of her, and she walked over. She got within thirty feet before one of the creatures—a large, black one–looked up and spotted her; it snorted loudly, causing Kara to halt in her tracks, locking eyes with the creature. A few moments of stillness passed, then the black creature bellowed loudly. Kara's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as the creature charged her.

* * *

Jonathan heard the piercing scream over the loud engine, and he jerked his head in the direction it came from. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw their prize dairy bull, Uncle Jesse, charge Kara at full speed; the young girl ran as fast as her legs would carry here, but she was nowhere near as fast as the large bull. Time seemed to stand still as Uncle Jesse caught up with Kara and butted her with his head; she tripped and tumbled violently to the ground—right before the bull ran right over her.

(End of Chapter 4)


	5. Chapter 5

Clark felt his entire body go numb as his mother finished talking to him; his legs started shaking, and he had to sit down. For a moment, part of him wondered if his mother was somehow exaggerating her worries, but Clark knew his mother would never exaggerate about anything like that. He took a ragged breath and rubbed his face.

"Does Dad know?" he asked quietly.

Martha nodded as she sat beside her son. "I told him last night," she replied. "He wanted you to know so we could figure out what to do together." She put her hand on top of her son's. "Clark, are you okay?"

"I don't understand," Clark said. "How could anyone…do that…to their own child?"

"I wish I knew, Clark," Martha said, putting an arm on his shoulder, "but all that matters—" She was interrupted by a loud scream, and he and his mother instinctively looked toward the kitchen door as they got to their feet.

"Kara!" they heard Jonathan shouted.

Clark blurred out of the house down the gravel road and stopped in front of the fence. He looked toward the pasture and saw his father dismounting the tractor and run toward the barn, a look of pure horror on his face. Clark saw the large dairy bull viciously pawing at something on the ground. He zoomed in and focused on the object; his heart stopped when he saw Kara on the ground, the bull's hooves slamming into her head and body repeatedly. He jumped over and took flight, zooming toward his cousin. In a flash, the bull was hoisted into the air, and Clark flew off towards the barn.

Jonathan didn't even pause at the sight of his livestock airborne, bellowing loudly, as he ran over to the young form sprawled on the ground. His stomach turned ice cold when he saw her clothes muddy and in tatters, bruises and abrasions over her head, arms, and feet; her eyes were closed, and she didn't move as he knelt beside her.

"Kara?" he said softly, his hand shaking as he reached out to gently touch her shoulder. "Kara, can you hear me?"

Clark landed on the other side of Kara, kneeling beside his cousin. "How is she?" he asked.

"I don't know," Jonathan replied.

Clark squinted his eyes slightly, quickly scanning Kara's body with his x-ray vision; no broken bones. He focused outward to check her muscles and other tissue. She just had multiple broken blood vessels, indicating numerous contusions, but nothing life threatening; her breathing and heartbeat were normal—he couldn't even see signs of a concussion.

"She'll be fine," he said, relieved. "No broken bones or anything like that."

"She's not moving," Jonathan said, concerned. "Kara, come on, honey, wake up."

"Kara, can you hear us?" Clark asked.

"What happened?" Martha asked as she hurried over; she knelt beside Jonathan.

"Uncle Jesse trampled her," Jonathan replied. "She got too close, and he charged her." His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the unconscious girl. "Kara, wake up."

Kara finally stirred moaned and opened her eyes, grimacing in pain. "What happened?" she asked, looking fearful. "That creature..." She tried sitting up and hissed in pain.

"Don't try getting up," Clark said gently before he carefully picked her up, "I got you." He stood up and made his way to the farmhouse; Jonathan and Martha followed. As they neared the house, Martha glanced over at her husband and saw the guilty expression on his face; she touched his arm, stopping him as Clark headed up the porch steps and into the house.

"This wasn't your fault, Jonathan Kent," she said.

"But -"

"No buts," Martha replied firmly. "You know that Uncle Jesse is aggressive; Kara had no way of knowing that, okay?" Jonathan stared at his wife, and he sighed, nodding. The two Kents headed into the house as Clark headed for the stairs. "Clark, take her to your room; Jonathan, get a large bowl of ice and towel; I'll get the first aid kit."

Clark nodded and carefully trekked up the stairs with Kara while Jonathan retrieved the largest bowl he could find and filled it with ice; he grabbed a dishtowel as Martha retrieved the first aid kit under the sink. The two hurried up the stairs to Clark's bedroom. Clark sat on the bed, still gently holding Kara, whispering to her as she cried softly; the tears stung her cheeks, causing more pain to her already battered and bruised body.

"Shh, it's okay," Clark said softly. "You're okay, Kara; it's okay."

"It hurts," Kara whispered, whimpering with every slight movement she made.

"Jonathan," Martha said, "get a towel from the bathroom." Jonathan put his things down and left the room; he returned a few moments later with a large yellow bath towel and he handed it to Martha. "Kara, honey, do you think you can sit up on your own for a moment?"

"Don't worry about me, please," Kara said softly, burying her head in Clark's chest. "I'll be fine."

Jonathan took a deep breath. He knew Kara's behavior was consistent with that of someone who had suffered from abuse in their life, but at the moment all he cared about was making sure she was tended to. "Kara," he said gently, "I know your parents did their best to try and convince you that you were worthless, but you're not, and we'll do everything in our power to help you realize that, but right now the most important thing we can do for you is to get those wounds cleaned-whether you want it or not."

Kara craned her head and looked up at Jonathan. He was dead serious, but—while she expected to see anger, resentment, and disgust—there was nothing but unwavering love and compassion; she saw the same expressions in Clark and Martha's faces. Kara was a little confused, but she was in too much pain to do anything but consent.

"Okay," she mumbled.

Clark gently eased Kara onto the bed and into a sitting position before joining his father; Martha took her son's place, then glanced over at the two men. They both recognized that look and turned their backs, giving Kara a little privacy. Martha carefully helped Kara out of her shirt then folded the towel vertically into thirds; she used it to cover the young girl's most delicate parts like a tube top, leaving most of her torso exposed.

"Okay, fellas," Martha said, "the coast is clear."

The men turned and grimaced when they saw the extent of Kara's injuries. Her arms, torso, neck and face were dotted with deep purple bruises. There were also numerous abrasions, and the Kent men grimaced inwardly at the thought of antiseptic stinging those wounds, causing her more pain than she was already in.

"Okay, let's get those cuts cleaned, first," Martha said, speaking low and softly as she reached for the first aid kit; she removed a cotton ball and the small bottle of iodine. She poured some liquid on the cotton then placed the bottle on the nightstand before facing Kara. "This might sting a bit." Martha gently dabbed a nasty abrasion on the young girl's forehead, and Kara hissed loudly as she reflexively grabbed the end of the wooden nightstand. There was a loud crack, and everyone stared wide-eyed as the nightstand splintered under Kara's grasp; all the objects on top-the small lamp, the alarm clock, and the bottle of iodine—fell to the floor and landed in the pile of splintered wood. Kara stared down in shock, a huge chunk of the nightstand still in her hand.

"Well," Clark said slowly after a few moments, "I guess that answers that question."

Jonathan looked slowly up at his son. "And what question would that be, son?" he asked.

"Whether it was really wood or particle board," Clark replied; his parents shot him a look. "Sorry." He glanced at Kara, and the corners of his mouth twitched as he glanced back at his cousin. "Kara, you okay?"

"I…think so," Kara said slowly, staring at the chunk of wood in her hand.

"I guess that explains why she doesn't have any broken bones," Jonathan said.

"And that means we definitely need to work on getting it under control," Clark added.

"After Kara's healed," Martha spoke up, "which means we need to finish cleaning those abrasions."

"But that stuff stings," Kara winced, looking at the cotton ball.

Clark walked over and sat down on the other side of Kara. "Here," he said, holding out his hand, "if it stings any more, just squeeze my hand. I'll fare a lot better than the nightstand." He gave his cousin the famous Kent grin; Kara managed a small smile as she slowly took his hand.

Martha glanced up at Jonathan, smiling slightly, before she went back to dabbing Kara's wounds. The young girl stopped hissing, but her eyes still squeezed shut as she grasped Clark's hand so hard her knuckles turned white. Jonathan glanced up at Clark and saw him grimace as the young girl's grip tightened; the farmer didn't like seeing his son in pain, but he was proud Clark was offering himself as a sacrifice to take the brunt end of Kara's strength.

Martha worked as fast and as gently as possible, and she cleaned the wounds in record time. She then took the dishrag and loaded it with ice, wrapping it up and gently placing it on a deep purple area on Kara's right shoulder; Kara hissed and tense, squeezing Clark's hand tightly.

"It's okay, Kara," Martha said softly. "I know it hurts, but this makes it feel better, believe me."

"She's right," Clark said, trying not to wince under Kara's grip. He knew Kara was like him, but it still surprised him how good of a grip she had for being so tiny; she was even smaller than his mother. He wondered if **he** was going to need an ice pack after his mother tended to Kara.

Martha sensed how much pain both Kara and Clark were in, and she tended only to the bruises that were deep; if Kara was truly like her son, she knew it wouldn't take long for her to get better. She finished tending to all the bruises, then put the damp towel in the bowl of melted ice; she smiled and gently kissed Kara's forehead.

"Feel better?" she asked. Kara nodded. "Good." Kara released Clark's hand, and both Jonathan and Martha instinctively looked down; they saw Clark's hand was slowly bruising. Martha looked worried, and she glanced at her husband, who nodded; they both knew Kara would be more upset for accidentally hurting her cousin. Jonathan put a smile on his face and looked at his son. "Come on, Clark. Let's let your mother finish tending to Kara while we clean up downstairs, okay?"

"Uh, I'd rather stay with Kara," Clark said.

"Clark," Jonathan replied, his voice firm and gentle at the same time.

Clark looked up at his father, and he sighed; he glanced back at Kara and smiled. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He gently kissed her cheek, then got up and left with his father; Jonathan looked back and smiled at his wife before shutting the bedroom door behind him.

Martha smiled at the closed door, shaking her head slightly before turning back to Kara. "Okay," she said, her voice gentle, "why don't we get you out of those pants and into some more comfortable clothes?" She walked over to the small dresser nearby and pulled out a set of gray sweatpants and a white tank top. "I put these here last night after you and Clark were asleep; I thought you might like some other clothes to wear until we can figure out what to do." She came back over and gently helped Kara into the tank top and then helped the young girl out of the tattered sweatpants and into the new pair. "There you go." She gathered up the first aid kit and other things, then she set them aside on the dresser before coming back over and sitting beside Kara. "I think it's best if you get some rest now."

"Honestly, I don't feel tired," Kara admitted. "I was in suspended animation for about two years on the ship, and I had one of the best night's sleep ever last night…."

"That might be the case," Martha said, "but you still need to rest." She paused for a moment, noticing Kara's bruises were already starting to fade from deep purple to then smiled. "How about this? You don't have to sleep, but I would like you to take it easy? I'll be back in a few minutes." Kara nodded and Martha gathered up the supplies from the dresser before leaving. Kara slowly got up, not nearly in as much pain as she had been earlier but still very stiff, and slowly padded over to the bedroom window. The light from the yellow sun enveloped her, the rays penetrating deep into her body; she could almost feel her injuries healing; smiling, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

* * *

Clark surreptitiously kept his hand hidden from sight as he and Jonathan descended the stars to the kitchen. He stopped at the island while his father grabbed a dishtowel from the counter and went to the fridge.

"She's going to be fine," Clark said, making smooth conversation. "She's like me…she'll be fine."

Jonathan glanced over at Clark; even if he hadn't seen his son's hand, Jonathan knew him well enough to know Clark was being evasive. In spite of everything, Jonathan almost chuckled, but he just smiled slightly. "Uh huh," he replied as he rummaged around in the freezer and pulled out a handful of ice, wrapping it in the dishtowel, listening to his son ramble.

"You know, Dad, part of me still feels like this is a dream, but I know it's not. I have an actual family member…," he looked uncertainly at his father, "not that you and Mom aren't my family, but…."

Jonathan smiled warmly as came over. "I understand, son," he said quietly. "What you're feeling is normal. Now, give me your hand."

Clark blinked, then he tried to pretend he didn't hear his father. "You really think that's normal? You're not mad or upset or anything?"

Jonathan looked at his son; the smile was still in place, but his voice was firmer, and his eyes hardened. "Clark, give me your hand."

Clark sighed and rolled his eyes. "Dad, I'm fine."

"Clark, I saw your expression when Kara squeezed your hand," Jonathan said, "and the bruise afterwards. I may be older, but I'm still your father, so don't think you can get anything past me; just give up this futile attempt and do as your told."

"Dad, just stick me under the sun," Clark joked, grinning his famous grin, "I'll be fine." Jonathan gave his son a look, causing Clark's grin to fade. He became serious and quiet and just a tad shy, sighing. "Dad, look, I appreciate that you care; seriously, it means a lot to me that you still do that; but really, it's nothing, I mean, everyone else deals with little stuff like this-there's no reason I can't, right?" He shrugged, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses, trying to look innocent and roguish at the same time. "Besides, with Short Stack around now, I'm gonna have to get used to being sort of vulnerable for once." He flipped the glasses open with his good hand and put them on.

Jonathan sighed and said, "Son, first of all, I'm worried about her, but I'm still going to worry about you; you're my, and secondly," he raised an eyebrow, "'Short Stack'?"

Clark shrugged. "She's tiny—even smaller than Mom." He smiled wryly. "Never thought you'd see the day when someone like her would put a hurting on me, huh?"

Jonathan genuinely laughed then gently held out his hand. "Clark, please give me your hand." Clark looked hesitant, but he knew arguing would be pointless. He sighed and held it out, palm up, for his father to see. The small, hand-shaped bruise on his son's hand wasn't too deep, but it wasn't minor either. He held his son's hand and tenderly dabbed the small bruises on the palm and on the back then nestled the soft cloth into the center of Clark's palm.

"Clark, there is something we need to talk about," Jonathan continued seriously, "and I wanted to do this now before too much time passed."

"It's about Kara, isn't it?" Clark asked.

Jonathan nodded. "We need to figure out what's going to happen to her."

"Dad, we can't just turn her away," Clark replied. "She has nowhere else to go."

"I know," Jonathan said. "She also has no school records, no birth certificate, no Social Security; she doesn't even have an Earth name." He glanced over as Martha came down the stairs, her hands full, and went to help her. "How's Kara?"

"Well, she doesn't want to sleep," Martha replied, taking the bowl and towel to the sink, "but I managed to talk her into resting."

"Sounds like she's got a bit of a stubborn streak," Jonathan mused as he put the first aid kit back in its place; he glanced at Clark, "like someone else I know." Clark grinned proudly.

"Her bruises are already fading, too," Martha added. "She should be completely healed in a few hours." There was a knock on the kitchen door, and the three Kents looked over to see two men standing on the porch; one wore an official service uniform of the USAF; the other man wore combat fatigues and boots. The trio shared a quick glance before Jonathan went and opened the door.

"Yes, may I help you?" Jonathan asked.

"Are you Jonathan Kent," the man in uniform asked.

"Yes," Jonathan replied. "And you are?"

"Captain James Williams, United States Air Force," the man answered. "May I come in for a moment?"

"Uh, sure," Jonathan said slowly, standing aside and letting the men in. "What's this about?"

"Nothing serious, Mr. Kent," Williams replied, nodding briefly to Martha and Clark. "We're just investigating a military satellite crash near Miller's Field. We're combing the area for stray debris."

"When was the crash?" Martha asked, feigning curiosity. "When did that happen?"

"Last night, shortly after eleven-thirty," Williams answered. "Did any of you see or hear anything around that time?"

"No, we were all asleep by that time," Jonathan replied. Williams raised an eyebrow. "Captain Williams, my son came in last night for a visit and decided to spend the night, and since this is a farm, we rise early, we go to bed early. We didn't hear anything or see anything."

"And what about your daughter?" Williams asked.

Jonathan tilted his head confused. "My daughter?" he asked, confused.

"She was standing in one of the upstairs windows when we arrived," Williams replied. He saw Jonathan swallow briefly, even as his expression remained unchanged; out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Martha and Clark exchange a quick sideways glance. The officer knew something was up as he stared directly at Jonathan. "I'd like to have a word with her, Mr. Kent."

(End of Chapter 5)


	6. Chapter 6

"Actually," Clark spoke up, keeping his voice casual, "she's my cousin." He didn't look over at his parents, but he could feel their eyes on him; he could almost hear them saying 'what are you doing?'

"'Cousin'?" Williams asked warily.

"Yeah," Clark replied casually, thinking quickly, "from my father's side." He put down the icepack in his hand, and stood up. "Uh, Captain, why are you so interested in her?"

"No reason, Mr. Kent," Williams answered. "I just want to hear if she knows anything about the crash last night."

"Captain Williams," Jonathan spoke up, "like I said earlier, we were all asleep last night at the time the crash happened—including my niece. If we knew anything we'd tell you, but we don't. Now, my family and I have work to do, so we'll let you get on with your investigation." His tone and expression were both calm, but Williams knew he wasn't going to get any more out of them. He turned to his officer.

"We're leaving," he said. The officer gave a quick nod and left as Williams turned back to Jonathan; he gave a tight smile. "I'll be in touch if I have any more questions." He gave a quick nodded to Martha and Clark before leaving. Jonathan followed and closed the door, watching until the two officers got in their vehicle; he waited until the vehicle had pulled away before turning around.

"You mind telling me what that was all about, Clark?" he asked, a little upset.

"Dad, we had to tell him something," Clark replied, shrugging. "He was getting suspicious, and I didn't know what else to say."

"It's all my fault." Everyone turned and saw Kara sitting halfway up the stairs, her knees pulled to her chest. "The sun felt nice and warm, and I wanted to see what everything looked like." She glanced at the adults. "I'm sorry."

"Kara, it's okay," Clark said as he put his icepack on the counter and crossed the kitchen. "No one here is mad at you." He climbed the stairs but stopped short as he got a good look at his cousin. Every exposed area of skin—face, arms, shoulders—had healed completely; there was no mark or scar or anything. "Hey…your bruises are gone."

"You sound surprised," Kara replied. "Doesn't the sun heal us as well as give us our abilities?"

"Yeah, it does," Clark said, "but I never healed this quickly when I was your age."

"Maybe it's **because** of her age," Martha suggested. "I don't know how things work for Kryptonians, but human girls do mature faster than boys; maybe it's the same way with Kryptonian girls."

"And if Kryptonians absorb solar radiation," Jonathan added, "then maybe Kara's just absorbing the solar energy at a faster rate."

"And that means her abilities are going to be coming in faster, too," Clark said. He glanced at his cousin and noticed her sullen expression; he carefully scooted next to her. "Hey, hey, look, we'll figure it out, okay? You don't have to worry about that."

"I'm not," Kara answered, "but that man knows I'm here, the one from the military." She looked at him, her eyes bright with tears. "What if he takes me away?" Clark and Kara didn't know Jonathan and Martha had moved onto the stairs until they saw Jonathan's boot on the step below Kara. They looked up to see him leaning forward, getting close to the young girl.

"Because you are part of this family, Kara," he said is voice soft but stern, "and we're not going to let that happen."

Kara stared at Jonathan, who looked at her like she mattered…that she was important; Martha and Clark held similar expressions in their eyes. Kara's first reaction was fear—she had only see that expression once before—with Rok-Var—but she had no idea how to process this with people she barely knew. However, something inside her told her that it was okay, that she would always be safe with those people. Overwhelmed, her emotional resolve broke, and she burst into tears.

Clark put his arms around Kara and held her close; he rarely cried, but he couldn't keep his tears inside any longer. After a few moments, he felt his mother's arms slip around him and his cousin, holding them tightly close to her as she cried herself. A few moments later, a second pair of arms, stronger than Martha's, slipped around the small group.

At the core of this cocoon, Kara closed her eyes against the tears and took a moment to breathe in her surroundings. She didn't know what to make of this group embrace or how to behave-this definitely would never have happened on Argo City, where physical contact like this was dismissed by her parents as barbaric and unsanitary. But now, for a minute, she let herself relax a bit and found that being in the arms of these people pleased her. She couldn't reason it out or make it fit into her ingrained sense of how things should be ordered, and her lack of control over the situation made her nervous; she found, however, that, given the chance, she didn't want to be anywhere else. She smelled the unique fragrances of her cousin and his family and could only describe them as honest, and she felt the warmth coming from the three larger forms surrounding her; if she sat very still, she could feel their hearts beating almost as one. Kara then realized that Kal-El—Clark—was totally comfortable with his human family…and the young girl found slowly found herself feeling the same way.

* * *

About half an hour later, Kara and Clark walked down the gravel drive toward the barn. Clark wanted to give her a small tour of the place she was going to call home—and he figured she (and the rest of the livestock) would be safer if Clark accompanied her until she became more acclimated to the place—while Martha and Jonathan went about their daily duties.

"Are you sure it's not going to be a problem with me staying here?" Kara asked, her bare feet padding softly over the tiny pebbles and smooth stones.

"Kara, we've already told you you're welcome here," Clark said gently. "You're family."

"I know," Kara said. "It's just…I grew up thinking 'family' meant pain and fear and thinking I wasn't good enough, and then I come here, and you and your parents not only tell me 'family' means something totally different…but you show me as well." She shrugged. "It's going to take some getting used to that."

"And we'll keep reminding you as often as you need it," Clark replied, smiling.

Kara gave him a grateful smile before the two stopped in front of the open barn doors. Kara looked up at the red building in awe. "So, this is a barn, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah," Clark answered, "we store hay and feed and the farm equipment in it."

"Hay?" Kara asked, tilting her head.

"We use it to feed the cows and horses," Clark explained. Kara furrowed her eyebrows, confused; Clark chuckled and put his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Short Stack, it'll make sense eventually."

"I certainly hope so," Kara replied. She glanced up at her cousin, warily. "So, is that going to be my new name?"

"What, 'Short Stack'?" Kara nodded, and Clark laughed a little. "No, of course not; you can choose your own name," he shrugged, "but your nickname is my territory," he grinned as he gently tapped her nose once, "and I'm afraid you don't get a say in that."

Kara would have normally found that disturbing, but she could sense the playful affection in Clark's tone and demeanor, and she smiled back before peering through the open barn doors; she glanced up at her cousin. "Can I go in?"

"Sure." Clark led her inside, and Kara's senses immediately went into hyper drive—not in a super way, but in a way for someone who had been deprived of being allowed to function to their fullest potential. She breathed in the smells and felt the sod and dirt under her feet as she took in the barn's interior; she had never seen so many different and unique…things. Clark was patient and explained everything as best he could, from the farming tools and equipment, to showing her actual hay; he didn't know if he did a good job, but Kara seemed satisfied.

"So, what's up there?" Kara asked, nodding to the loft above them.

Clark suddenly flashed a small grin to his baby cousin and then took her hands. "Come on, I want to show you something." He led her up the stairs and stopped at the top; Kara looked around, amazed at everything there, and Clark grinned. "It's my Fortress of Solitude. Dad built it for me a long time ago." He walked over to the loft window and opened it, letting sunlight pour into the loft itself.

As the rays flooded the inside, Kara closed her eyes; it was as if the light itself penetrated deep into her body. It was strange how natural it felt, having the warmth radiate deep into her core. She smiled, taking a deep breath.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Clark asked, recognizing her blissful expression.

Kara opened her eyes and smiled. "Yes, it does," she said as she walked over and looked out the open loft window. Seeing the property from that different perspective, with the sharp breeze gently blowing around her, and the young girl was mesmerized. "It's so colorful…like everything has a life to it."

"Clark!" Clark and Kara looked down as Jonathan and saw Jonathan walking towards the barn. "Perry White's on the phone."

"What does he want?" Clark asked.

"Well, son, when you don't show up for work," Jonathan said, slightly amused, "people are going to try to find you." Clark chuckled. "I told him there was a family situation, and he said to take your time, but he wants to talk to you about the story you're working on."

"We'll be right down," Clark said. "Come on, Kara."

"Who's Perry White?" Kara asked as she followed Clark down the stairs and out the barn door.

"My boss," Clark explained. "He's the editor for the paper I work at." Kara looked confused, but she didn't say anything as they met up with Jonathan. Clark noticed and smiled. "Don't worry, I'll explain everything. I promise. I'll be right back." He kissed her forehead before trotting to the house, leaving Jonathan and Kara in front of the barn.

"You know, for everything I know as a Kryptonian," Kara said, "it really doesn't do me any good here, huh?"

Jonathan wanted to tell her that she didn't have to worry about her Kryptonian heritage, all she had to do was focus on her life here on Earth, but he couldn't; Kara had spent her whole life being a Krytponian, and Jonathan knew it was going to take her time to adjust to her new life. He put his arm around her shoulders, smiling down at her.

"Kara, I want you to focus on just being you," he said gently, "and if that means you have questions about things you don't understand, then it's alright to come to us, okay?" Kara nodded, and Jonathan was thankful for that little token of trust from her.

"So, aside from this morning's incident with our bull," he continued, "how are you liking the farm?"

"I spent my entire life confined in a small, dark world, feeling trapped," Kara answered, "but being here, seeing how big and beautiful everything is…," Kara smiled, "I feel free." She chuckled, a little embarrassed. "In fact, there's a part of me that just wants to go running as far and fast as I can."

"How about settling for running to the house?" Jonathan asked, smiling. "Martha found some more clothes and wanted to see if they fit you."

Kara looked like she was going to burst into a puddle of pure bliss as she bolted from Jonathan down the gravel drive. Jonathan watched the young girl, but his smile quickly faded as Kara suddenly blurred at full speed-Clark full speed—and disappeared into the forest across the street from their farm. A second later he heard a loud, sickening crash.

(End of Chapter 6)


	7. Chapter 7

"Just get it in as soon as possible," Perry said.

"Will do, Mr. White," Clark said, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, watching his mother wiped the counters with a damp sponge.

"Oh, Kent, you think the military's telling the truth?"

"Excuse me?" Clark asked.

"Some of my sources said Air Force is investigating some unexplained crash last night near Smallville," Perry said. "Was planning on sending someone there today, but found out you're already there."

"Honestly," Clark said, "not sure what to think."

"Well, see what you can dig up," Perry replied. "If Luthor's there, I'm betting there's something more going on than a simple meteor crash."

Clark's stomach clenched. "Lex is here?" he asked. He saw his mother stop in her tracks, looking concerned.

"Yeah," Perry answered. "Oh, and if there's anything you or your family need, let me know."

"Thanks," Clark replied. "I should be back in a day, two day tops, just depending on how things work out."

"Talk to you later, kid," Perry said before Clark hung up.

"If Lex is here," Martha said seriously, "then we need to tell you father."

"I know," Clark replied.

"And we're definitely going to have to keep Kara inside until we can figure out a few details."

"I know," Clark replied, "and I'm thinking—"

"Martha!" Jonathan shouted. "Clark!"

"Dad," Clark said before blurring out of the house. He caught up with his father as Jonathan ran down the drive toward the street. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"Kara," Jonathan gasped, trying to catch his breath. "She…she…" He kept gasping, and Clark wondered if he was going to pass out. He finally gave up and pointed at the forest; Clark looked over, seeing nothing. He squinted slightly, switching to a combination of his telescopic and x-ray vision, looking through the trees and foliage. Halfway through the forest he saw a small form wrapped around a tree; the sight shocked his vision back to normal.

"Dad, how did Kara end up wrapped around a tree?" he asked slowly as Martha hurried over.

"Kara's wrapped around a tree?" she asked incredulously, her eyes wide.

"She kinda morphed into Speedy Gonzales," Jonathan explained.

"Let me go get her," Clark said, but before he could take off, Jonathan grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"We're coming with you," he said in a tone Clark knew better than to argue with. The trio started down the drive, but then Clark's superhearing picked up some noises. He tilted his head and focused until the sounds became clear.

_I think it's over here, sir!_

_Whatever it is, find it, now!_

_Yes, sir!_

Clark's eyes widened, recognizing William's voice, as he switched his hearing back to normal. Both Jonathan and Martha noticed.

"What is it, Clark?" Martha asked.

"It's Williams and his men," Clark answered.

"They must have heard Kara's crash," Jonathan said. "Clark, you better—" Clark blurred off, leaving his parents standing there, "—get her."

Clark sped quickly through the forest and stopped in a small clearing. About thirty feet in front of him, Kara was wrapped around a tree, almost like she was hugging it; the tree itself quaked slightly, but Clark could see no external damage, either with the tree or—more importantly—the young girl.

"Kara?" Clark asked as he trotted over to her. He instinctively did a quick visual checkup and found no injuries—not that he expected to. "You okay?"

Kara slowly let go of the tree, looking stunned and a little shaken up, her eyes wide. "Yeah," she said slowly, "I think so." She glanced over at her cousin, and saw him looking very concerned as he craned his neck slightly. "Clark, I'm fine, really."

"Shh," Clark said, holding up a finger. The two were silent, then they craned their heads when they heard voices less than twenty feet behind him; they looked over and saw figures rapidly approaching—Clark recognized them as Williams and a few soldiers. "We gotta go—now." Without waiting for a response, he quickly scooped Kara into his arms and blurred away.

Williams and his men made it to the clearing just in time to see a large object blur away at a rapid speed, kicking up dust, twigs, and leaves. The soldiers stared in the direction in which the object had disappeared, too stunned to say anything; they missed the cold expression on their superior's face as he narrowed his eyes in fierce determination.

* * *

After getting Kara safely back to the house—and Clark reassuring his parents that she was okay—the Kents decided it was best for the young girl to remain in the house until she was better able to control her abilities. Jonathan and Martha continued their duties while Clark spent the rest of the day helping Kara learn control.

Jonathan walked into the kitchen later that evening, having finished his chores, and saw Martha working in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He saw Clark and Kara in the living room, Kara holding on to a large glass vase; he tilted his head.

"Is that the glass vase I gave you last year for Christmas?" he asked Martha.

"Don't worry," Martha said. "Kara hasn't broken anything for half an hour; Clark's been working her up from the pillows."

"Smart boy," Jonathan replied, smiling.

"She has a handle on her speed, too," Martha added, "and Clark thought it'd be best if we tell her about his…other life."

"Okay," Jonathan replied; he breathed in the wonderful aroma. "Meat loaf?"

"It'll be ready in half an hour," Martha answered, "which should Clark enough time to fill Kara in on what he does." They headed into the living room, and the two cousins looked over. Kara smiled proudly, holding up the vase.

"I think I have it under control," she said.

"That's great," Jonathan replied sincerely, smiling; Kara beamed, and Jonathan felt a small tug at his heart. He glanced at Clark, who understood his father's silent expression and nodded before turning to his cousin.

"Kara, there's something we need to talk about," he said. He gently took the vase from her and put it back in its place. Jonathan and Martha sat down in the rocking chairs, staying near but staying out of the way and trusting Clark to handle this particular subject. Clark removed his glasses. "Do you know what these are?" Kara shook her head. "They're called glasses, and some humans use them to help them see better?"

"So, why are you wearing them?" Kara asked curiously. "You don't need them, do you?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'need'," Clark replied. He put his glasses and put them in his pocket before taking a deep breath and quickly spinning in a circle. He stopped a few seconds later, staring at his cousin; her eyes were wide, her mouth forming a small 'O.'

Clark stood before her, and Kara could see his hair style had changed, a thick strand falling down over his forehead in an almost 'S' shape; the most prominent change, however, was Clark's clothing. He had changed into what appeared to be a royal blue wetsuit with bright red boots and a matching red belt; a red, highly stylized 'S,' inscribed within a yellow shield and bordered in red, was emblazoned on his chest, and a bright red cape flowed over his shoulders and down his back, stopping just above his ankles. Kara glanced at Jonathan and Martha, but their calm expressions indicated that they were well aware of their son's bizarre attire.

"Are you being punished for something?" she asked, looking back at her cousin. Jonathan snorted under his breath, and Clark rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm not being punished," he said. "This is why I need the glasses."

"I'm confused," Kara asked slowly. "What does your, um…" she pursed her lips, trying not to smile, "choice of clothes have to do with something that helps a person see?"

"Kara," Martha explained, "Clark has had to spend his entire life hiding his abilities from the world; there are people out there who'd hurt Clark and anyone close to him if they knew he was an alien. A couple years ago something happened, and Clark had to choose between saving a lot of people and keeping his secret; he chose to save the people. Because of that, Clark decided that he wanted to go public, to be able to use his abilities to help people without having to be secretive about it. So, that's where we came up with the costume."

"Not my first choice," Jonathan muttered. Martha gave him a look. "Well, it wasn't."

"What about the glasses?" Kara asked.

"Clark injured his eyes when he was younger," Jonathan explained. Kara tilted her head, confused. "It's a long story, but Clark need the glasses to see."

"But not now?" Kara asked.

"No, not to see," Clark replied.

"So, why are you still wearing them," she raised an eyebrow, amused, "and that outfit."

"Because I look different wearing them," Clark answered, ignoring her comment. "By changing into this, removing my glasses, and acting a little different, I can use my abilities to help people without sacrificing my privacy or the safety of my family and friends. I can be Superman like this," he quickly spun in a circle, changing back into his civilian clothes; he put his glasses back on, "and 'normal' Clark Kent like this."

"I can see why," Kara said, smiling a little. "No one's probably looking at your face anyway." Jonathan laughed loudly, and Martha gently swatted her husband. Clark tried to look annoyed, but even he couldn't help but smile. "And I'm assuming Pete knows?"

"Yes, he does," Clark said, "and a few other friends, too, but for the most part, the world thinks I'm two different people."

Kara nodded slowly, understanding, but they could tell she was contemplating. "Does this mean I have to wear glasses and an outfit like that too?"

"No!" Jonathan, Martha, and Clark quickly said. Kara jumped, looking startled.

"Kara," Clark said calmly, "right now, you need to focus on adjusting to being on Earth, getting used to your abilities, and still blending in."

"Thank Rao," Kara muttered, looking relieved. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Clark, but I just can't see myself wearing a blue and red costume like that."

"And on that note," Martha spoke up, sniffing the aroma wafting in the air, "dinner is ready. The four went into the kitchen, and Clark showed Kara how to set the dinner table—explaining to her the different utensils and other dinnerware—while Jonathan and Martha went about preparing the plates. In a few moments, they were all seated and eating.

"So, what is this called?" Kara asked, poking the main dish with her fork.

"Meat loaf," Clark answered. He showed her how to cut it; Kara followed and then ate some; she smiled as the tastes flooded her mouth.

"Wow…this is…wow," she mumbled, chewing.

"I think she approves," Jonathan smiled.

"And this?" Kara asked, swallowing as she pointed to the white, fluffy mound next to the meat loaf.

"Mashed potatoes," Clark replied. "And this," he said, spearing a small elongated object with his fork and holding it up, "is a carrot; it's a type of vegetable."

"Vegetable?" Kara asked.

"I think tomorrow we need to have a lesson on Earth food," Jonathan smiled. Everyone watched with amusement Kara sampled each the new foods; she enjoyed each of them, quickly devouring everything on her plate. "And it's nice to see someone clean her plate without complaining."

"See, now you're making me look bad," Clark said to Kara. Kara could tell he was joking, so she smiled, her mouth full off food.

After everyone had eaten, they started cleaning up the dinner table. Martha and Jonathan gathered up the plates and headed for the sink, while Clark and Kara gathered the silverware and glasses. Halfway there, one of the plates fell from Jonathan's hand; he gave a small grunt and cringed, waiting for the inevitable crash. Kara and Clark glanced over and saw the plate falling. The world around them suddenly appeared to freeze in time, the plate stopping in midair; Martha and Jonathan looked like statues.

Without thinking Kara hurried over as fast as she could. She didn't think she'd make it in time, but the plate was falling at an unusually slow rate; it was only halfway in its fall when Kara snagged it. She stared at it for a moment, shocked and amazed before she stood up and looked up at Jonathan, holding out the plate to him.

"Here," she said, looking please with herself.

"Thank you, Kara," Jonathan replied, smiling warmly as he took the plate. He and Martha shared a smile as they took the dishes to the sink and watched them. Kara glanced over at Clark, and he beckoned her over; she joined him.

"Nice job," Clark whispered.

"Thanks," Kara replied.

After all the dishes had been cleared from the table, Martha and Kara went upstairs to get the young girl ready for bed while Clark and Jonathan tended to the dishes.

"Dad, I know how to solve the dilemma with Kara," Clark said.

Jonathan looked at his son. "How?"

"Chloe."

"Clark—"

"Dad, I know what you're going to say, but who else has that much computer knowledge that we can trust?"

Jonathan thought about that. He nodded after a few moments. "We'll need to talk to your mother, Clark," he said.

Clark and Jonathan went back to the dishes. They had just finished drying and putting away the last of the plates as Martha and Kara came back downstairs. Kara wore an old pair of Martha's green flannel pajamas and carried a book in her hands; grinning, she handed it to Clark. The young man took it and smiled when he recognized the book: a worn-out copy of Dr. Seuss' 'Green Eggs and Ham.'

"It was on your dresser," Martha explained. "Kara asked what it was, and I explained it to her; she said no one ever read her a story before, and she wanted you to read her first story to her."

Clark felt honored as a lump formed in his throat; he thought about all the things Kara had never experienced, the simple things he had always taken for granted. He knelt in front of Kara and met her eyes. "You know what?" he asked. "My dad used to read this to me when I was little; it's been a long time since I've heard it. Would you mind if he read this to both of us?"

Kara glanced up at Jonathan, and she could see his eyes were bright as he swallowed, forcing a small smile. The young girl was confused by the farmer's reaction to Clark's question, but for some reason she could sense it was important for both. "No, that's okay."

Clark smiled and turned to hand his father the book; he met his father's eyes, and both men shared a brief smile of shared memories from years ago; the young man then gently scooped up his cousin like she was a delicate doll. He carried her into the living room and sat down with her on the couch, while Jonathan settled into the nearest rocking chair; Martha sat in the other one and leaned back. Jonathan retrieved his reading glasses from his shirt pocket and put them on before opening the book; he cleared his throat and started reading.

"'Sam I am,'" Jonathan read. "'I am Sam. I am Sam, Sam I am." He glanced at Kara as she leaned against Clark's side, listening intently; Jonathan smiled before continuing. "'That Sam-I-am! That Sam-I-am! I do not like that Sam-I-am!'"

It had been years since Jonathan had last read to Clark, but it still felt as natural as if Clark was still young, looking forward to hearing his father's soothing voice sending him off sleep, knowing his dreams would be filled with images of the story he had shared that night. The farmer couldn't be sure that Kara would have the exact same experience as Clark, but he at least hoped she would have some pleasant memories to overshadow the dark ones that encompassed her entire life.

As Jonathan neared the end of the book, Martha gently nudged; he looked at her, and she nodded at the couch. Jonathan glanced over and saw Clark laying on his back, with Kara laying on top; Clark had his arms wrapped around his cousin, enveloping her in a protective cocoon, and both were sound asleep. Jonathan smiled, then he looked down at the book and finished the book, his voice low and soothing.

"'I do so like green eggs and ham,'" he read. "'Thank you. Thank you, Sam-I-am.'" He closed the book and put it on the coffee table before he and Martha got to their feet. Martha retrieved the folded afghan from the bay window while Jonathan went over to the couch and carefully removed Clark's glasses. He put them on the end table, then he brushed Clark's hair away from his face and kissed his son's forehead; he did the same with Kara.

Martha walked over, unfolded the afghan, and carefully covered the sleeping cousins; she leaned over and kissed their foreheads. She helped Jonathan turn out the lights and lock the doors, then the two climbed the stairs to their room.

(End of Chapter 7)


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Clark yawned and stretched from his spot on the couch, feeling completely rested; his thoughts had drifted back to the previous night. It had been a long time since his father had read to him, but Clark had to admit it was a nice break from his normal life to come back to the one place he could truly be himself. And now that he had someone like him to share it with—someone he knew would be depending on him—Clark knew he'd be coming back to the farm a lot more.

Clark stretched again, not feeling the weight of someone on him, so he figured his parents had carried Kara upstairs; he opened his eyes, and all traces of haze or grogginess completely vanished. Kara, still sound asleep, floated roughly three feet above him. Clark was a bit startled, but he also knew what would happen if Kara suddenly woke up; as invulnerable as he was, having the young girl land on him from that height wouldn't be pleasant, especially since she'd land right on a sensitive area. He glanced over as his father came in, whistling, rubbing his hands in a towel, looking down.

"Good morn—" Jonathan stopped when he saw his son on the couch and Kara floating in her sleep above him. Clark made a shushing motion with his finger over his lips before quickly blurring off the couch, careful not to disturb the sleeping girl; he joined his father.

"Good morning," Clark whispered.

"Good morning," Jonathan replied quietly. "Sleep well?"

"Yep," Clark said. "Hey, thanks for reading last night. I know Kara really enjoyed it."

"I don't think she was the only one," Jonathan smiled as he put a hand on his shoulder. He glanced back at Kara. "So, she's floating already?"

Clark shrugged. "She's progressing like I did," he replied, "just a little faster."

"Guess I'm going to have to reinforce her bed," Jonathan mused as Martha came down the stairs.

"Good morning, everyone," she said.

Kara stirred and slowly opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. It took her only a second to see she was floating several feet off the ground; her eyes widened right before she immediately dropped. Clark blurred over and caught her right before she crashed into the couch; the tip of her nose was touching the couch cushion. Clark gently set Kara on the floor, and everyone could see her eyes were wide.

"You okay?" Clark asked.

"Fine," she replied in a shaky voice. "Was…I…floating?"

"Yeah, you were," Clark said.

"Does this mean I'm going to be flying soon?" Kara asked, looking hopeful.

"I think you're going to have to wait a bit for that one, Kara," Jonathan answered. "Clark was eighteen when his feet finally left the ground."

"Oh," Kara said, trying not to appear too disappointed.

"You know," Martha said suddenly, seeing the girl's expression, "maybe after breakfast, Kara and I could go into town and get some new clothes."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Martha," Jonathan replied. After Clark and Kara had fallen asleep, Martha had informed Jonathan about Lex being in town; the farmer had been—predictably—less than thrilled. "Besides having the Air Force to contend with, we now have Lex to worry about."

"Who's Lex?" Kara asked.

"Someone you want to stay far away from," Clark replied quickly.

Kara didn't have to ask why as she glanced between the three faces; their expressions all bore the evidence of people who had been deeply wounded and now harbored a grudge for the person responsible. She had seen that same expression on the face of Rok-Var every time he looked at her—even when he did his best to hide it from her—and she knew it came from her teacher's hatred for her father.

"What if I take Kara to Metropolis instead?" Clark suggested, changing the subject.

"No," Jonathan replied, "out of the question."

"Why?" Clark asked.

"Because it's a big city, Clark," Jonathan replied. "Lots of things can happen."

"Dad, under any other circumstances I'd agree with you, but if Kara is in Metropolis, then she'd be off the Air Force and Lex's radar."

"And what if she gets another ability in the middle of the city?"

"Well, if memory serves me correctly," Clark said, joking, "next one that comes in is X-ray vision, and that isn't as dramatic as leaping tall buildings in a single bound or bending steel bars in her hands, so if she starts seeing through things, we'll come home before the heat vision kicks in." Jonathan fixed his son with his best 'I'm not amused, son' expression as he folded his arms.

"You know," Martha spoke up quickly, "that might not be a bad idea."

"Martha, you can't be serious," Jonathan said. "It's Metropolis, not Smallville."

"Exactly," Martha replied. "I know it's a lot bigger than Smallville, but it'll also be easier for Clark and Kara to blend in; Clark's been doing it for almost two years now, and—I know Kara's still new to Earth—but I think she'll be fine there for one day."

"I'll even pay for her clothes myself," Clark added quickly.

"Everything?" Martha asked. The prices of even the cheapest clothes in Metropolis were still expensive, and her son was offering to buy a teenage girl an entire wardrobe. "Can you afford that?"

"Of course I can," Clark replied. "You guys are housing and feeding her; I could at least buy her clothes." He looked at Jonathan. "Dad?"

Jonathan looked at his family, wanting so badly to say no. It wasn't that he didn't trust Clark to watch out for Kara—he just didn't want anyone finding out about her. She was family to Jonathan as much as Clark, and the farmer didn't want anything happening to her, but he also knew if she was anything like Clark—abilities aside—then he couldn't keep her locked away forever.

"I'm okay with it," Jonathan said finally, nodding at Kara, "as long as she is."

Everyone looked at the young girl, and she suddenly felt a little self-conscious. She had a lot of questions, and she remembered back to what Jonathan had told her earlier about being allowed to ask them. She sensed that she wouldn't get into trouble for asking questions, but it was still hard after so many years of being told that she wasn't supposed to question anything—that she was to just accept it.

Clark saw her expression, sensing her hesitation, and he knelt in front of her, smiling warmly. "You know, if you want," he whispered, "we can tell you everything about Metropolis that we know over breakfast, okay?"

Kara felt at ease by his offer and nodded. "Okay," she said, smiling gratefully. Clark stood up and put an arm around her as they headed to the kitchen; Jonathan and Martha shared a smile as they followed the two into the kitchen.

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Clark asked his younger cousin as they headed down the bustling sidewalk. Clark smiled to herself seeing her experience the different people, buildings, sights, smells, sounds; he knew he would never grow tired of watching her.

Kara, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open, stared upward at the tall building in front of her. Large letters spelling out 'Parker's Apparel Source' were above the entrance, which was glittery and crystalline. She saw people dressed in designer clothes, posed in large windows on the first floor. The young girl furrowed her eyebrows as she watched them; they were standing perfectly still, not even breathing.

"Clark, why are those people just standing there?" Kara asked, pointing. "And why don't they have any faces?"

Clark smiled. "They're called mannequins," he said. Kara tilted her head. "They're like statues."

"Oh," Kara nodded.

"You ready to go in?" he asked. Kara looked a little unsure, but she took Clark's hand, and the two walked into the store; they stopped short, looking around. Neither of them had ever seen so many women's clothes in one place before; they glanced down at their clothes—t-shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes—and felt seriously underdressed among the fashionable designs. A woman in her thirties—dressed in a crisp black dress and matching heels, her hair in a tight bun, wearing only a hint of makeup—walked up to them, smiling pleasantly.

"May I help you?" she asked.

Clark read the name 'Peggy' on her nametag, and he smiled back. "Yes, my cousin needs a new wardrobe, and I want her to have the best." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, removing his credit card and offered it to Peggy. "Money is not a problem."

Peggy took the credit card and read the expiration date; it was far from expiring. "Certainly, Mr. Kent," she said, smiling, as she returned the card. She turned and snapped her fingers, and four women dressed similarly to Peggy, hurried over. "Ladies, this gentleman wants our help in composing a new wardrobe for this young woman." She indicated Kara, who felt very self-conscious as the women looked at her, even though they all smiled warmly at her. Peggy looked back at Clark. "Will this wardrobe include lingerie?"

Clark paled as his eyes widened; he hadn't thought about that. He glanced at Kara, who suddenly appeared younger and much more innocent. "Uh…."

"I'll take that as a yes," Peggy replied, trying not to smile as she turned to one of the clerks. "Mary, please take the young woman to our lingerie department." The one named Mary nodded and gently guided Kara away.

"Nothing too…out there…," Clark called out, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

Peggy indicated the remaining three women. "Mr. Kent, Ginger will help with Daywear; Alice will handle Footwear; and Nancy will cover Makeup and Accessories." The women left, going their separate ways. Peggy turned back to Clark. "Don't worry, Mr. Kent, your cousin is in good hands. If you'll just take a seat here" she indicated a nearby chair "we'll get started."

Clark felt a little dazed as he took the offered chair. He knew he wouldn't be doing much more than offering his opinions (one of the main reasons he chose that particular store; he knew *nothing* about what teenage girls wore), but he could tell already it was going to be a long day.

Kara, on the other hand, seemed to take to clothes shopping like any other teenage girl. With every outfit she tried on, she giggled and twirled, admiring herself in the large three-way mirrors, and even Clark had to admit he was enjoying himself as he watched her. The young girl giggled as she twirled and modeled her latest outfit: a light blue polo shirt, a bright red skirt over nude pantyhose, bright red socks and running shoes, and a red sweatshirt draped over her back, sleeves tied over her sternum.

"What do you think?" she asked as she looked at her cousin in the reflection.

"I think you look really nice, cuz," Clark replied. Kara beamed and bounced over to him as he got to his feet. She hugged him fiercely, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest. "Thank you."

Clark put his arms around her and held her close. "Don't mention it," he said, his heart melting a little. A small chirping sound interrupted the moment, and Clark sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the number. "I need to take this, okay?" Kara nodded, and Clark looked up at Peggy. "Could you get everything ready for us, please?" Peggy nodded, and Clark left the building through the front entrance to take his call outside; Peggy and the others started gathering up the clothes and accessories.

Kara headed for the dressing room and grabbed her other clothes. As much as she loved the jeans and t-shirts—they were comfortable and smelled of Martha, something she was growing rather fond of—she wanted to wear something new…something that belonged to her and no one else. She came out and walked back over to Peggy as the other clerks folded her other clothes and put them in decorative shopping bags.

"Would it be okay if I wear this outfit instead of the jeans?" she asked Peggy.

Peggy smiled. "Of course, dear; just let me remove the tags." She took a pair of scissors from the counter and snipped the tags off; she then grabbed another odd-shaped device that Kara had never seen before, and removed the large security buttons on the shirt and skirt. She patted Kara's cheek, then took the clothes in Kara's arms and put them in another bag; Kara quickly counted seven as Peggy ran up the charges. Clark returned just as Peggy finished and noticed Kara was still in her new outfit.

"Is it okay if I wear this?" Kara asked cautiously.

Clark smiled and nodded. "It's yours," he said, "of course you can." He leaned over, lowering his voice "Personally, I like the color combination; it suits you."

"Really?" Kara whispered.

"Really." He kissed the tip of her nose then quickly paid for the purchases; he ignored the final price, knowing it was for a very special cause. He handed two of the bags to Kara, then grabbed the rest, and the two headed out of the store, quickly merging with the bustling sidewalk traffic.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Clark asked as they dodged the people.

"I thought we were just getting clothes," Kara said, doing her best to keep up with her cousin.

"Well, Dad just called to check on us," Clark explained, "and I persuaded him to let me keep you entertained for the rest of the afternoon." He held his arm out and up in an offering manner. "The city is ours for the day, m'lady. What do you wish to do? You hungry?"

Kara pursed her lips and thought for a moment then she glanced at Clark. "Is it weird that I'm not?" she asked.

"No," Clark replied. "Believe me, I understand. It's something that comes with being…us."

"So, I'm never going to feel hungry again?" Kara asked.

"Not really, no," Clark replied.

"So, why do we eat, then?" Kara asked.

"Because it tastes so good," Clark replied, smiling. He looked around, and his eyes fell on something; he grinned. "And speaking of tasting good, I know exactly what you'd like." He beckoned her to follow him down the sidewalk. Kara raised an eyebrow, but she hurried after her cousin.

"Where are we going?" she asked. She was considerably shorter than he was (sixteen inches shorter, by her calculations), and it wasn't tiring trying to keep pace with him as they crossed the crosswalk, but it did require some effort, especially when combined with the skillful act of trying to dodge other pedestrians at the same time. A few minutes later they stopped in front of a hot dog vendor.

"Two foot longs, please," Clark said to the vendor as he put his bags down.

Kara watched with curiosity as the vendor took a pair of tongs and reached into his machine and pulled out a foot-long frank. He cradled it in a bun then handed it to Clark. Clark, in turn, handed it to Kara after she put her bags down; she took it cautiously, staring at it as if it were a three-headed bear.

"You actually eat this?" she asked.

"Whattsa madder, kid?" the vendor asked. "Never seen a hot dog before?"

"As a matter of fact," Kara said as she stared at the bun and frank, "I haven't." The vendor eyed her strangely but didn't say anything as he prepared another hot dog for Clark. He quickly piled on his favorite toppings: mustard, ketchup, relish, and sauerkraut.

Kara peered at the condiment rack, then back at Clark. He was already chowing on his hot dog, his mouth stuffed. The young girl gave him a reluctant expression, and she tentatively sniffed each condiment. She liked the ketchup, though its appearance reminded her of blood, the relish tickled her nose, the sauerkraut smelled pungent, but she cringed at the mustard's smell; it burned her nose. "That smells like the waste products of the Saturnians!"

Clark nearly choked on his hot dog, and he had to swallow and cough. The vendor gave Kara an odd look, but Clark quickly gobbled up the rest of his dog before grabbing his bags. "Come on, sweetie," he said, "I think it's time we go."

"Okay," she said. "Just let me get some of that red stuff first." She grabbed the ketchup bottle and squeeze a little harder than she intended. A large jet of ketchup squirted out, splattering on the front of Clark's shirt; Kara cringed. "Oops. Sorry." Clark looked down at his shirt then slowly glanced up at his cousin. Her lower lip quivered, and Clark she was going to burst into tears; he quickly put down his bags, but then she snorted softly, and a snicker soon followed.

"Sorry, Clark," she said, trying not to laugh too hard. She took a bite of her dog, and her eyes widened as big as her cheeks bulged. "Oh, my gosh, this is awesome!" She quickly chowed down the rest of her meal while Clark, smiling, grabbed some napkins and wiped his shirt. Once she finished (and Clark's shirt cleaned up as much as possible), the two grabbed their bags and headed off again.

"Please tell me that will come out," Kara said, trying not to smile too much.

Clark stopped and looked at his cousin. "I think so," he said. Kara looked a little skeptical, but Clark chuckled and kissed her forehead. "I'm kidding. A little club soda, and it should be fine." A horn honking caught his attention, and Clark craned his neck to make sure it was nothing he needed to tend to. Satisfied it was just an impatient driver, he turned back to his cousin. "In the future, however, I think—" He stopped in mid sentence when he looked up; Kara was gone.

(End of Chapter 8)


	9. Chapter 9

Clark's heart raced as he frantically looked around for his cousin. Despite the bustle of people around, Clark had the advantage of being taller than most of them. He scanned over their heads, looking around, and finally spotted Kara down the sidewalk, calmly standing in front of a large window, her hands clasped behind her as she peered inside the store; her shopping bags sat at her feet in front of her. Clark grabbed his bags and pushed his way through the crowd until he reached her side. He looked in the window to see what had caught her attention, and he saw various types of toys—stuffed animals, dolls, and a bright red toy train running on a small track. He glanced at his cousin and saw she was completely entranced.

"What are those?" she asked, her voice a bare whisper.

"They're called toys," Clark replied.

"Toys," she said slowly, confused.

"First, we need to talk about something," Clark said, making sure he didn't sound angry or condescending. "You can't just walk off like that, okay, Kara?"

"But I just wanted to see this stuff," Kara replied.

"And I understand that," Clark said, "but there are rules you have to follow."

"Really?" Kara asked, a little disappointed. She wasn't too fond of rules, especially after all the rules her parents had on Argo City. She sighed, knowing it was best not to protest. "What are they?"

Clark tilted his head a little, but otherwise ignored the tone in her voice. "You don't wander off," he said. "This is a big city, and you don't know it like I do, so you need to just stay with me, okay?"

"Okay," Kara said, her tone more annoyed than she planned.

Clark knew his cousin wasn't happy—he didn't like it when adults did that to him when he was her age—but she was new to the planet; she didn't know about its dangers, and Clark was going to do everything he could to keep her safe. He glanced at the toys, deciding to change the subject. "So, which toy do you like the best?"

"Toy?" Kara asked, confused.

Clark nodded. "Yeah, those are toys," he said, nodding at the objects in the window. "You play with them."

"I was never allowed to play," Kara replied sadly. "My parents didn't believe in things like that."

"Your parents didn't let you do much, did they?" Clark asked, trying not to sound sarcastic. He had always wanted to learn more about his heritage, but the more he learned about his aunt and uncle, the less he liked.

"Outside of learning how to be a proper Kryptonian," Kara replied, "no." She glanced back at the window, tilting her head, studying the toys. Her attention was drawn to a simple blue teddy bear, covered in light blue versions of her family's symbol, wearing a small-sized version of her cousin's costume. She glanced up at him, giving him an odd expression. "What is that?"

"That is a teddy bear," Clark replied, smiling. Kara gave him a blank expression. "It's a kind of toy."

"Wearing your costume," Kara replied.

"Yeah," Clark said, looking a little embarrassed.

"So, the people here revere you by putting our symbol—your costume—on toys," Kara said, trying to understand the logic. She glanced over and saw a large sign across the street; it had big letters spelling out 'Metropolis Novelties' over the entrance. In the large windows were bright displays of all kinds of merchandise bearing the symbol of their family. She slowly glanced over at Clark, raising an eyebrow, giving him a 'please explain' look.

"Actually, it's not just…toys," Clark replied, still looking a little embarrassed. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate being seen as a hero—and he knew that the majority of the profits went to charity—but he still found all the attention a little embarrassing. He saw Kara looking at him hopefully, and Clark sighed, smiling a little in spite of himself. "Sure, we can go." Kara grinned, and the two grabbed their bags before Clark led them across the street and into the store.

The store was a simple little shop, with hardwood flooring and beige walls. There were shelves and racks filled to the brim with anything and everything that someone thought the Superman symbol could be plastered on: t-shirts, mugs, pencils, hats, keychains...Kara held up a clear bag with some clothing in it.

"'Superman panties'" she read slowly, intrigued.

"Uh, no," Clark said, quickly grabbing the package and putting it back on the shelf, his cheeks bright red.

"Why not?" Kara asked, a little amused and curious as to why her cousin seemed to get so flustered when it came to what were called undergarments—especially those belonging to women. "Wasn't this supposed to be a clothes shopping expedition?"

"Yes, and we already got your clothes, remember?" Clark replied, giving her tight smile.

"Well, I like these, too," Kara said, grabbing the package.

"That may be the case, but I'm not buying them," Clark retorted, grabbing the package back and putting it on the shelf again.

"Oh, come on," Kara said, grabbing the package again, "stop being such a _bastono_." Clark stopped and fixed her with a hard look—the first time he had ever truly looked angry—and Kara knew she had crossed a line. She quickly put the package back on the shelf and ducked her head. "Sorry."

Clark stared at her, and he slowly began calming down. He sighed and put his bags down before placing his hands on Kara's shoulder. "Hey," he said softly, "look at me." Kara reluctantly looked up. "Look, I'm not mad, but you can't just go around in public speaking words in…our native language, okay?" Kara nodded, and Clark smiled before kissing her forehead; Kara smiled back.

"So, does this mean I can get these?" she asked hopefully as she grabbed the package again.

Clark really wanted to say no, that she had enough clothes and…other things…but he knew if he was truly being honest with himself he was just embarrassed because they were…other things…and his baby cousin….together. He glanced down at her, and her bright blue eyes stared right back at him—and Clark knew right then and there that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Fine," he said, "but I do **not** want to know when you're wearing them." Kara grinned and kissed his cheek. Clark's heart tugged a little, and he knew he was officially putty in her hands. "Come on, let's go pay for it." The two headed to the front counter, meandering around shelves of Superman action figures—Kara noted they looked nothing like Clark—before making it to the register. The cashier—a boy not much older than Kara—smirked when he saw the package, but Clark held his tongue and paid for it, then quickly steered his cousin out of the store.

"So, where to next?" Kara asked as they headed down the sidewalk. "What else can we see?"

Clark thought for a moment then he slowly grinned as he thought of one place he knew they would both enjoy. "Come on," he said, "I know just what to do with you."

Kara raised an eyebrow, curious, but she followed Clark as he continued down the sidewalk for a couple of blocks, then crossed the street. The two headed into a colorfully decorated store with the name 'Past 'N' Present Candy Counter and Soda Shoppe' in large pastel letters over the door and large picture window. Kara tilted her head up when she heard the small bell jingle over her head. She lowered her gaze and looked around, gasping softly.

Red and white tiles covered the floor in a checkerboard fashion; the walls were painted in simple faded pink. A few white café tables and chairs sat in front of the window and against one of the walls. Glass jars lined the rest of the walls from floor to ceiling, each one filled with a different confection—over two hundred varieties of chocolates, gummies, bubble gum, licorice, and saltwater taffy by Clark's estimation.

"What can I getcha?" someone asked.

Clark and Kara looked over at the wrap-around Formica counter situated near the tables and chairs; it spanned three quarters the length of the store. Behind the counter sat an old-fashioned soda fountain, glasses, ice cream storage bins, glass ice cream dishes, small containers full of sundae toppings, and bunches of different varieties of giant lollipops. A soda jerk, complete with the pointy hat and red bowtie, leaned against the countertop. He had a friendly face, and Clark could see he was in his mid thirties.

"Can we just look around for a bit?" Clark asked.

"Sure," the soda jerk replied. "If you need anything, just holler." Clark led Kara over to the glass jars along the wall. Kara examined the contents and names of each jar, and tilted her head, reading each name out loud.

"Gummi Bears?" she said slowly. "Sour Worms? Jawbreakers? Swizzle sticks? Jelly Babies? Chocolate?" She gave her cousin a confused expression. "What are these things?"

"Candy," Clark explained. Kara gave him a blank expression. "They're very good," Clark added. He leaned over. "You know, when I was your age, I really liked the chocolates."

"What is chocolate?" Kara asked. Clark tapped one of the jars. Kara examined the contents, and she saw the dark lumps. She wrinkled her face. "They look like—"

"Would you like to try one?" Clark interrupted gently. The last thing he wanted to hear was what chocolate looked like to Kara; it was bad enough he wouldn't be going near mustard anytime. Kara shrugged and Clark turned to the soda jerk. "How much for a single piece?"

"Twenty-five cents," the soda jerk answered.

Clark reached into his pocket, pulled out a quarter, and tossed it to the soda jerk; the soda jerk caught it and put it in the cash register. Clark turned, took the top off the glass jar, and pulled out a small piece of chocolate; he handed it to Kara. She examined it, then looked up at her cousin for help.

"You eat it," Clark said simply.

Kara glanced at the piece of chocolate warily then cautiously put it in her mouth. The chocolate melted on her mouth, while the sweetness exploded; it was as if she was in pure heaven. Her eyes widened as a smile slowly spread across her face. "Whoa," she whispered after swallowing, "that was…I've never tasted anything like that before. Can I have some more?"

Clark knew it wouldn't be a good idea to get her hopped up on sugar; she was already…energetic enough, and he had a feeling his parents wouldn't appreciate him bringing home a sugar laden super-powered teenage girl. Still, he couldn't bear not getting her anything at all.

"How about I choose a few things I think you'll like, okay?" Clark suggested.

"Like what?" Kara asked.

"I was always partial to Jelly Babies," the soda jerk spoke up, walking over. "They're cool," he straightened his bowtie, "just like bowties."

Clark chuckled a little before he skimmed all the bins, deciding what to buy. It took a few minutes, but he finally chose a pound of five different candies: Jelly Babies, Reese's pieces, Gummy worms, Skittles, and chocolate covered caramel pecan clusters; he put each candy in its own bag and headed to the register with Kara.

"Got everything you need?" the soda jerk asked.

"I think so," Clark smiled.

The soda jerk chuckled and rang up the candy. "That'll be twelve thirty-eight," he replied. Clark paid the man, who nodded appreciatively. "Have a good day, sir." He glanced at Kara, who was staring at the containers, her eyes wide; he smiled. "What's wrong, sweetie? You're acting like you've never seen candy before."

Kara looked up and replied honestly, "I never have, sir."

The soda jerk looked at her oddly then glanced at Clark to see if it was a joke. Clark shrugged; it was pointless to lie. He thought of something that would sound somewhat believable, and decided on the truth. "Her father wouldn't let her have candy."

The soda jerk thought about that for a moment, then he walked over to what Kara was staring at: one of the giant lollipops displays; he plucked the largest one—rainbow swirled—and leaned over the counter, handing it to Kara. "I think you would enjoy this one; it tastes the best."

Kara grinned as she took the offered gift. "Thank you sir," she replied, beaming up at him. Clark smiled and reached into his pocket to get some money to pay, but the soda jerk stopped him.

"It's on the house," he simply said.

"Are you sure?" Clark asked.

The soda jerk nodded. "First lollipop's on me; house rules." He winked at Clark.

Clark smiled and nodded his thanks before putting the candy bags into the other shopping bags. He picked them up in one hand and held his other out to his cousin. "Ready to go?" Kara nodded and took Clark's hand, clutching her lollipop in her other hand. The soda jerk smiled as he watched the two leave his store and disappear into the bustle of the city.

(End of Chapter 9)


	10. Chapter 10

"So, how do I eat this thing?" Kara asked as the two walked down the sidewalk; she still held Clark's hand and looked at the lollipop she held.

"How about we save it until after we get back to Smallville?" Clark suggested. He could hear his parents lecturing him if they learned that he let Kara have sweets and not any real food. He held out one of the bags, and Kara put her lollipop in it.

"So, now what?" Kara asked. Clark looked up and noticed they were approaching a camera store; he stopped and groaned. "What's wrong?"

"I nearly forgot Jimmy's birthday present," Clark replied.

"Jimmy?" Kara asked.

"Jimmy's a friend of mine from where I work," Clark explained, "and his birthday's coming up, so I need to get him a present."

"You give presents on your birthday?" Kara asked.

"Yep," Clark answered.

"So, when's Jimmy's birthday?" Kara asked.

"It's on July 18," Clark replied.

"And yours?"

"May 28." He glanced over and saw Kara's expression falter a little; he put an arm around her. "You know, I didn't have a birthday either when Mom and Dad first found me. They chose one for me—and we can do the same for you."

"I can choose my own birthday?" Kara asked hopefully.

Clark nodded. "We'll get a calendar, and you can pick whatever day you want."

Kara smiled. "Okay," she said. She looked at the camera store. "So, what's a camera store?"

Clark smiled and took Kara's hand. "Come on, I'll show you." He grabbed the shopping bags and headed inside the camera store with his cousin. He smiled, watching Kara's eyes widen as she stared around in wonder at the shelves of cameras and camera accessories. A few people were looking around, and a clerk helped a customer at the counter.

"So, Jimmy likes cameras?" she asked.

Clark nodded as they walked over to a shelf full of accessories. "He's a photographer for the paper," he said. "He's really good too."

"And he's your friend?" Kara asked.

Clark nodded, smiling. "He and a few other friends will be visiting the farm in about four weeks; we're going to celebrate Jimmy's birthday then." He made a mental note to come up with a contingency location to hold the party, depending on how well Kara was adjusted by that time. "That being said, do you want to take a look around while I get Jimmy's present?" Kara nodded. "And don't leave the store, okay?"

"I'll won't," Kara replied, "I promise."

Clark watched as she made her way over to one of the displays near the front; he kept an eye on her for a few seconds as she browsed the shelves, then made his way over to one of the clerks. "Excuse me," he said, "I'm getting a gift for a friend. The strap on his camera bag is worn through and hanging together by a thread, so I'm thinking about getting him a new bag; it needs to be very sturdy but lightweight."

"I think I have just what you're looking for," the clerk said before he led Clark to the back of the store.

Kara tilted her head as she stared at the shelves stocked with unusual objects, each with its own label. She read each label. "Nikon-EH-4 AC Power Adapter for Nikon D1 Digital Camera? Macro 3X Close-up Lens with UW Filter?" She furrowed her eyebrows; she knew it was English, but it felt as if she was reading Carraxamitian; she always had problems with that language.

"You into cameras, little lady?"

Kara glanced over and saw an unfamiliar man standing next to her. He appeared to be in his late thirties and big—not bulky muscular big, but fat—with long, dark stringy hair combed over a conspicuous bald spot. He wore a quilted vest over a dirty thermal shirt, old jeans with holes in them. His hands especially caught her attention: they were big, but seemed to lack the strength that she had seen in Jonathan and Clark's, and the first section of his ring finger was missing; a tattoo of an elongated spider web was on the back of his hand, disappearing under his sleeve.

"Actually, no," she said, immediately feeling uneasy. His smile seemed sincere, but Kara recognized the slippery ooze in the man's voice—something she had experienced daily with her father—so she had a pretty good feeling that the man standing next to her wasn't exactly a nice person. "I'm just looking." She glanced around quickly, trying to find Clark; she spotted him near some back displays, talking with a clerk. She started to make a beeline toward her cousin, wanting to get as far away from that guy as possible, but she felt a big hand clamp around her arm.

A flood of memories flashed through the young girl's mind—all showing her at the mercy of her father's violence and rage. Kara felt her heart race as her breathing grew short and her knees grew weak. She could clearly remember the absolute terror she felt every time her father grabbed her like that, knowing the pain that always followed; it was almost as if she was back on Argo City instead of Earth. Panic surged through her at the mere thought of everything she had been experiencing on Earth—especially Clark and Martha and Jonathan—not being real.

"Leave me alone!" she shouted as she threw her arm out and back.

Clark heard his cousin shout out, and he—as well as everyone else in the store—looked over in time to see a man holding Kara's arm—right before she throw her arm out defensively. The man flew through the air and crashed through the displays in the store window, shattering the glass; he slammed into a parked car next to the sidewalk, denting the side of the vehicle, before he crumpled to the pavement, unconscious.

The world suddenly switched into slow motion as Clark glanced back at Kara. The young girl appeared horrified by what had happened, and she glanced over at her cousin. Her eyes welled up with tears, looking ashamed, right before she took off at full speed in a red and blue blur. He hurried to the front of the store, looking in the direction Kara had left; he glanced back at the man and heard his heartbeat and breathing, and knew he was going to live. In less than the blink of an eye, he blurred off to find his cousin.

It took him a few minutes, but he finally located her in an alley over twenty blocks away. It was a bricked dead end between two buildings, lined with garbage on both sides. Kara sat on the ground against a corner of the brick wall, her knees pulled close to her; her forehead rested against her knees, and she cried softly, her entire body shaking. Clark slowly approached her and knelt in front of her, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, startled; when her eyes locked with her cousin's, Clark saw a fresh wave of terror wash over her.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "Please don't be mad at me; it was a mistake, honest!"

"Hey, hey," Clark said softly, cupping her face in his hands, "I'm not mad, I promise you." He used his thumbs to gently blot the tears from her cheeks before carefully sitting beside her and putting his around her. "What happened?"

"I was looking at the stuff on the display," Kara said, her voice shaky, "and this guy came up to me, and I knew he wasn't nice, so I tried to leave, but he grabbed me, and I remembered all the times my father grabbed me like I did…and I just panicked." She started crying fresh tears again, burying her face into his shoulder.

Clark let her cry into his shoulder as he stroked her hair with one of his hands. He wasn't mad at Kara, nor did he worry about her attacker's physical condition; he worried about his cousin's well-being, not so much about being seen (he knew they'd been too quick for anyone to really see their faces), but Clark also knew how his father was—not that Jonathan would blame Kara any more than Clark did. Still, he knew they couldn't stay in Metropolis any longer; they had to get back to Smallville.

"Kara," he said softly; she looked up at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying. "Everything's going to be okay, but we need to go."

"Go where?"

"Home," Clark replied. He carefully stood up, then gently pulled Kara to her feet. He put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on." Kara looked unsure, but she allowed Clark to lead her out of the alley.

(End of Chapter 10)


	11. Chapter 11

"Yeah, thanks," Perry White said before hanging up his phone. He got to his feet and hurried to his office door, looking around the newsroom. He spotted the young blonde in a crisp white business suit sitting at her desk, typing on her monitor and sipping from her coffee mug. "Sullivan!"

Chloe Sullivan looked up. "Yeah, Chief?"

"I need you down at Shutterbug Haven on Melbourne," Perry replied. "Police are getting calls about a disturbance there—some guy got thrown through the display window and into a car."

"Okay," Chloe said slowly as she got to her feet, confused, as she grabbed her phone, "and this is newsworthy because….?"

"Because surveillance cameras show the guy grabbing a teenage girl right before it happened," Perry said. "They don't show her face, but they do show the guy flying through the air and slamming into the car right before the girl disappeared," he gave her a serious look, "in what witnesses say was a red and blue blur."

Chloe's eyes widened. She knew Clark had gone home to check on some 'family business,' and she figured he was investigating whatever crashed in Smallville earlier that week, but hearing about that girl—and what she appeared able to do—made Chloe wonder if there was more of a connection than Clark had let on.

"Sullivan?"

Chloe looked at her boss, snapping back to the present. "Yes?"

"Take Olsen with you," Perry replied. He glanced at the unassuming teenage boy sitting on the corner of a small desk about twenty feet away. He had slightly unkempt brown hair and wore a simple dark t-shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers. He read a Popular Mechanics magazine and munched on a red apple, an older model Nikon sat on the desk beside him.

"Jimmy?" Chloe asked uneasily. She had been hoping to investigate the mysterious girl by herself—and Jimmy had a penchant for being a little too nosy for his own good.

Jimmy glanced up from his magazine when he heard his name, his cheeks full, chewing slowly. "Me?" he mumbled hopefully.

Perry sighed. "Yes, you, Olsen," he said. "Now, get your camera and get going."

Jimmy quickly swallowed as he jumped to his feet, grabbing his camera. "You got it, Chief," he said, heading for the elevators."

"And don't call me Chief," Perry called after him. He glanced over at Chloe and saw her troubled expression. "What's eating you, Sullivan?"

"Nothing," Chloe replied quickly, putting on her game face as she pushed in her chair. "I'll get you that story."

"Thank you," Perry replied as she went to join Jimmy at the elevators. He watched as the doors opened—and he saw a familiar brunette –dressed in a dark blouse, heels, and skirt—step out. She stopped to talk to Chloe, and Perry saw the brunette's expression change a bit before Chloe stepped into the open elevator, pulling Jimmy with her; the brunette watched the doors close, then she slowly turned her head and locked eyes with Perry, her expression hard.

"Perfect," Perry muttered as he turned around and headed back into his office. He didn't bother shutting the door as he walked over and sat at his desk, silently counting down from three…two…one….

"Perry, what the hell?" the brunette asked as she stormed into the office.

"You weren't here, Lane," Perry replied calmly, "your cousin was. End of discussion."

"But I thought I had first dibs on anything super related," Lois protested.

"Just because you've had eighty percent of all the Superman stories since the guy showed up," Perry replied, "it doesn't mean you own the copyright on his exploits—and there's no guarantee he's connected to this camera store incident anyway."

"Chloe said a teenage girl, wearing red and blue, threw a guy through a window into a parked car," Lois retorted, "before speeding off in a blur."

"And we live in a world populated by aliens and superheroes," Perry countered. "It doesn't mean they're all from Krypton." He saw the expression Lois gave him, and he sighed. "Fine, if you think there's a connection, contact Superman—see what he knows." He focused his attention on the layout design on his desk.

"Will do," Lois replied, knowing Perry had ended the conversation and there was no point in continuing it. She turned and left, shutting the door behind her. Perry glanced up, contemplating what his reporter had said. After a few seconds, he reached for his phone.

* * *

The blue truck drove past the colorful 'Smallville Meteor Capitol of the World' sign almost three hours later before Clark glanced over at Kara; she stared numbly at out the passenger window, watching the rows of corn pass in a green blur; Clark had never seen her look more dejected…like she was being led to her execution.

"He's going to be okay," Clark said softly. "I overheard the paramedics say he just had a few bruises and maybe a small concussion." After taking refuge in Clark's apartment, Clark had left her temporarily to retrieve the shopping bags from the store (at superspeed) before anyone noticed them; he had also managed to convince Kara to change her attire—a gray t-shirt, comfortable jeans, and white sneakers—before they both headed back to Smallville.

"I know," Kara replied.

"And there wasn't enough time for anyone to see your face," Clark added, "so we don't have to worry about that."

"But people still know something happened," Kara said tearfully, looking over at him; she looked like she was going to cry any second. "What if they figure out who I am and where I'm staying?" She shook her head. "I don't want to go!"

Clark knew people were going to make a connection between what had happened in the store and Superman, and he wasn't exactly sure exactly how to handle that, but it wasn't his top priority at the moment. "Kara," he said, "you are not going anywhere. I promise." A few moments later, he turned onto the gravel road of the Kent Farm. They parked in front of the scalloped fence and got out—with Clark getting all the bags—and were halfway up the walk when the kitchen door open. Both Martha and Jonathan came out, their expressions a mixture of concern and slightly upset. "Dad, Mom, what's wrong?"

"If you're going to carry a cellphone," Jonathan said as Clark and Kara stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, "it doesn't do any good to keep it off."

Clark looked a little guilty as it finally clicked in his mind why his parents came out to meet them. "I turned it to silent so Kara would have a chance to calm down," he replied.

"Are you both okay?" Jonathan asked.

"We're fine," Clark replied. "Kara's still a bit shaken up—and it really was an accident."

"Honest," Kara said softly, trying to keep her composure; she was a little freaked out that the Kents already knew about what happened…scared they might send her away. "The guy reminded me of my father, and when he grabbed me I just freaked out; I swear, I didn't mean to throw him as hard as I did."

"We understand that," Martha said gently. "We just want to make sure you're both okay."

"So, who called?" Clark asked.

"Well, Perry called here, saying he couldn't get you on your phone," Martha replied, "and Chloe called four times; Perry wants you to investigate any connection between the crash and what happened in Metropolis, and Chloe just wants some answers."

"Do they both know about Clark?" Kara asked worriedly.

"Chloe does," Clark replied, "Perry doesn't." He noticed Kara's expression and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's going to be okay." He glanced over when he heard the sound of a car approaching and saw familiar black town car had turned onto the Kent property, heading toward the house; he clenched his jaw. "Lex." He glanced over at Martha, who nodded and took the shopping bags from her son.

"Come on, Kara," she said. Kara didn't know what was going on, but she remembered they had told her to avoid Lex; she nodded and quickly followed Martha up the porch stairs and into the house.

Jonathan and Clark watched as the car stopped near the truck and the driver side door opened. A woman with long legs and short brown hair, dressed in a chauffeur's uniform with a short skirt, a matching cap, and short black high heeled boots exited; she moved to the back door and opened it. A bald man dressed in a crisp black suit stepped out and headed up the walk, while the woman waited beside the car.

"Clark, Mr. Kent," Lex Luthor said, smiling at the two. "It's been a while."

"Lex," Clark replied, smiling back, "what brings you out to Smallville?"

"One of my satellites crashed a couple days ago," Lex answered. "Trying to convince the Air Force that it's not a meteor—though I think Captain Williams is under the impression that it might not even be that. What do you think, Clark?"

Clark recognized the expression on Lex's face; the businessman always saved that look when he was trying to get information out of someone—usually Clark. "Well," Clark said slowly, "Smallville's isn't 'Meteor Capital of the World' for nothing, Lex."

"Which would be nice if there was actually a meteor at the crash site," Lex said. "Air Force found nothing, so either it disintegrated after impact or it wasn't a meteor, and someone walked off with something that doesn't belong to them." Jonathan and Clark recognized the unspoken ruthlessness layered beneath the cool voice, but kept calm.

"Is that the only reason you're here, Lex?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, my contacts informed me Air Force had harassed you and your family, Mr. Kent," Lex said, tilting his head slightly, "including your niece." He appeared a little amused as he glanced at Clark. "You never said you had a cousin, Clark."

"Distant relative," Clark replied, "and they didn't really bother her."

"That's good to hear," Lex said, smiling. "Well, I wanted to make sure they hadn't caused your family any trouble."

"That's very thoughtful, Lex, thank you," Jonathan replied, even though he knew Lex was lying through his teeth.

"So, am I going to be able to meet her?" Lex asked.

"She's resting," Clark said. "I took her shopping in Metropolis today, and she's pretty tired."

Lex appeared amused. "So, I guess you heard about that girl throwing some guy through a window, huh?"

"Yeah, briefly," Clark replied, trying to keep his composure. "We were kind of on our way back when we heard about it, so I really don't know what to think."

Lex didn't say anything, but gave a little snort. "Well, I'm sure we'll be hearing more about it eventually," he said. "Anyway, I'll be hanging around town to make sure the Air Force doesn't overstep its boundaries, so I'm sure I'll see her around." He nodded before heading back to the car, where the woman waited with the back door already open; he climbed inside and she shut it securely before getting in the car herself. A few moments, Lex's car pulled away.

"You buy any of that?" Jonathan asked as they watched the car drive off the property, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

"Not a chance," Clark answered. He glanced over at his father. "So, I guess I shouldn't have taken Kara to Metropolis, huh?"

"Well, I can't say I'm thrilled by what happened," Jonathan replied as the two turned and headed back toward the house, "but both Chloe and Perry said no one was able to see Kara's face—even on the security cameras—so that's a relief. However, I think it might be best to have her stay out of Metropolis until things calm down."

"She's not going to like that," Clark said as they walked into the kitchen. He didn't see either Martha or Kara downstairs. "Mom?"

"We're upstairs!" Martha replied. "We'll be down in a minute! Why don't you get some tea ready?" The two men busied themselves preparing the kettle on the stove and grabbed four mugs from the cabinet. By the time the water had been poured, Martha walked down the stairs.

"Everything okay?" Jonathan asked as he doctored his mug.

"Yeah, Kara's putting away a few things," Martha replied, "then she'll be down." She started working on preparing her tea. "So, what did Lex want?"

"Well, he told us he was in town because the crash was one of his satellites," Clark answers. "I don't think he knows what's going on, but if he thinks there's anything worth salvaging, he'll try to get it."

"Which means Kara's going to have to stay close to home," Jonathan added, "just until everything calms down and there's not chance of anyone recognizing Kara."

"Well, I think I might have something to help with that," Martha said. She glanced over at the stairs. "Kara!"

"I'm coming!" Kara shouted back. A few seconds later, Kara came down the stairs, and both Jonathan and Clark's eyebrows raised as they got a good view of the young girl. She still wore the same clothes she had arrived in, but her hair had been pulled back into a loose ponytail and a pair of black, oval shaped costume glasses with a flower pattern on the temple pieces; she looked a little uncertain as she stood near the bottom of the stairs.

"Martha, are those your old costume glasses?" Jonathan asked.

Martha nodded. "I found them in the closet when we were putting away Kara's clothes," she said. "I figured if a change in hairstyle and some glasses keep people from recognizing Clark, it would also work for Kara."

"So, do I look different enough?" Kara asked as she came over.

"Definitely," Clark replied, "but still just as pretty." Kara beamed a little.

"Oh, I also called Chloe back," Martha continued, "she'll be joining us for dinner tonight." She saw the expressions of the others.

"Martha . . . why?" Jonathan asked.

"Because we're going to have to come up with a backstory for Kara," Martha said, "and the sooner we get it done, the better for everyone." She headed to the refrigerator and started pulling out different items. "All I told Chloe was that we would fill her in on what happened tonight, which will be in a few hours. I'll make dinner, and you and Clark can finish up the chores."

"What about me?" Kara asked.

Martha smiled. "I could use a hand in the kitchen. Want to help?" Kara smiled and nodded before joining the older woman near the stove as Clark and Jonathan headed out the back door.

(End of Chapter 11)


	12. Chapter 12

The sun set below the horizon as Chloe drove her VW bug down the gravel drive, her mind racing with whatever the Kents wanted to tell her. Her instincts told her it had to be connected with whatever happened in Metropolis with that mysterious girl—and quite possibly the crash in Smallville as well—but Chloe didn't want to jump to any conclusions, even if the first one involved aliens; she parked near the familiar red truck parked in front of the scalloped fence and smiled a little as she stared at the familiar yellow farmhouse.

It had been a while since her last visit to the farm, and while she adored Metropolis, there was always a special sense of security Chloe felt with the Kents. They treated her like family, and they had trusted her with the truth about Clark's origins for eight years, a secret that the young woman had guarded closely—even from her own cousin. Chloe turned off the engine and grabbed her laptop before getting out and heading up the walk to the house, trying not to appear as excited as she felt her reporter's curiosity kicking into high gear. She rapped on the kitchen door and waited. A few moments later, Jonathan opened the door. He grinned, seeing the young woman.

"Chloe," he said as he enveloped her in a hug. "Good to see you again."

"Same here, Mr. Kent," Chloe smiled as she hugged the elder farmer. "How are you?"

"Can't complain," Jonathan replied, standing aside and letting her in. "How are things going in Metropolis?"

"Same old, same old," Chloe replied. "Can't complain."

"Hi, Chloe," Martha smiled as she descended the stairs. Chloe smiled and hugged the woman that had always been like a second mother to her. "Thank you for coming."

"My pleasure," Chloe replied. She glanced between the two, curious. "So, where's Clark?"

"Right here," Clark said as he came down the stairs, wearing nice jeans and a short-sleeve button-down green shirt, nice jeans, and work boots; a young girl followed slowly behind him. "Hey, Chloe."

"Hey, yourself," Chloe grinned. She glanced Kara, who had stayed back near the stairs, looking shy and cautious. Chloe quickly studied her from head to foot: the girl was shorter than Martha and wore dark jeans, sneakers, and a purple t-shirt; her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose braid and a pair of oval-shaped black glasses framed her vivid blue eyes. Chloe glanced at Clark, then back at Kara, then back at Clark again, looking amused. "So, you're going with the glasses routine for her as well, huh?"

Clark smiled a little as he looked over at Kara. "Kara, this is Chloe Sullivan," he said. He glanced back at Chloe. "Chloe, this is Kara."

"Hi, Kara," Chloe smiled at the girl.

"Hi," Kara said softly.

"Kara's my cousin," Clark added slowly.

Chloe nodded, smiling, then it clicked; her eyes widened. "Clark, when you say 'cousin,' which side of the family are we talking?" She glanced at Martha and Jonathan.

Clark smiled at Kara, then looked at Chloe. "Mine," he said simply, shrugging. Chloe's eyes slowly widened as she looked at Kara, then back at Clark, then back at Kara again. She glanced at the parents for confirmation, and they simply nodded. Mouth opened, she looked back at Clark.

"But…how?" Chloe asked. "I thought Krypton was destroyed."

"Part of it survived," Clark replied. "Kara was born years later; she was sent here because," he paused for a moment, deciding it wasn't time yet to give the whole story just yet, "because it wasn't safe for her anymore."

"Wow," Chloe said slowly as she glanced over at Kara again, who still looked uncertain. Chloe smiled at her, hoping to put her at ease. "It's nice to meet you, Kara. How are you liking Earth so far?"

"It's nice, but there's a lot to get used to," Kara replied, smiling a little; she knew Chloe was a friend, but she still wasn't sure what to make of her.

"I bet," Chloe replied, deciding against asking about if she was enjoying her new abilities. She glanced at Clark. "So, then I guess it's safe to assume that it **was** her ship that crashed a couple days ago, huh?"

"Yeah," Clark replied. "We were able to put it in the storm cellar before the Air Force showed up."

"Are you sure there's nothing missing?" Chloe asked.

"No, I checked it over myself," Kara replied. "We have the ship and key, and I even found the compartment that Rok-Var put my comb and hairbrush in."

"Which we're very grateful for," Martha added softly, remembering earlier when she brushed Kara's hair with her own hairbrush—that promptly broke when it hit a small tangle in the girl's hair.

"Why do you ask, Chloe?" Clark inquired.

"My contact in the Air Force," Chloe explained. "He called me earlier today and said Fort Truman is under tight security after recovering some kind of liquid from the crash site."

"Pete said that some kind of liquid bubbled off Kara's ship," Martha said. "It melted onto the ground."

"Protomatter," Kara explained. "It's not dangerous; it's just a versatile material Kryptonians. In its hardened formed, it's used for shielding material; it's virtually useless in liquid form."

"It's still going to keep Lex and the Army around for a while until they figure out what it is," Jonathan replied.

"And they're **really** going to be interested in the sudden appearance of Kara," Clark added as he turned to Chloe, "that's why we need your help."

Chloe nodded, understanding. "Say no more," she replied, smiling. "Just give me a few days, and I'll have a backstory so tight even Lex won't be able to Swiss cheese it."

"'Swiss cheese'?" Kara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll explain later, Short Stack," Clark replied.

"You couldn't have found another nickname?" Kara asked, trying to look annoyed, but her lips curled into a very small smile.

"Not a chance," Clark grinned.

Chloe smiled, amused. She knew Clark had already taken Kara under his protection—that was something Clark did naturally with people he was drawn to—but Chloe knew it was going to exponentially different with Kara; she was not only a fellow Kryptonian but an actual blood relative. "Well, before I do anything," she said, "Kara's going to need a name, date of birth, and age."

"Well, Kara chose January 8," Clark said. "Kara's a little over eleven Kryptonian years, making her about fifteen and a half years on Earth."

"And her name?" Chloe asked. "Kara, Karen…?"

"Actually, Kara chose something else," Clark replied as he glanced down at her, smiling. "Go on."

Kara took in a deep breath as she looked over at Chloe. "I'd like to be called Linda," the young girl replied. "Linda Claire Kent."

* * *

The next morning, Jonathan woke up at his normal time—five o'clock on the button—and left the house thirty minutes later to start his chores. He stopped short when he saw Kara—Linda, he reminded himself—sitting on the porch swing; she wore jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers, and she stared off in the distance, her legs curled up close to her body.

"Linda?" The young girl looked up, startled. "Sorry, sweetie; didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," Linda said softly. She watched as Jonathan sat next to her. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I'm always up at this hour," Jonathan replied. "The question is, why are you?"

"Couldn't sleep," Linda answered. "Just a lot on my mind."

"Anything you want to talk about?" Linda shrugged, and Jonathan put an arm around her. "Linda, I know you've been through a lot recently, but keeping it all inside isn't good; if something's bothering you, you need to tell us so we can help you."

"I know," Linda replied.

"So, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Linda answered. Jonathan raised an eyebrow, and Linda sighed as she got to her feet and walked over to the balcony, looking out into the darkness; the sky was a deep violet, with a minute hint of the first rays of daylight to come. "I mean, I really appreciate everything you and everyone else have done for me. You've treated me more like family than my own parents," she turned around, and Jonathan saw her eyes were bright with tears, "and I don't even deserve it." She ducked her head and hugged herself, almost as if she wanted to disappear.

Jonathan stood up and crossed the porch to the young girl; he put his hands on her shoulders. "Linda, look at me," he said. He saw Linda hesitate, but then she slowly looked up at the farmer. "What you deserved was to be treated with decency and love…that's all we're doing." He saw the tears fall from behind her glasses, and he carefully took them off and put them on top of the porch rail. Linda suddenly wrapped her arms around Jonathan and buried her head in his chest, clinging to him; Jonathan was a little startled, but he carefully wrapped his strong arms around her. He let her sob into his flannel shirt as he rested his head on top of hers, knowing she was releasing emotions that had been buried for who knows how long. After a few minutes, Linda had calmed down and pulled back enough to look up at him.

"Does that mean you'll be my father, too?" she asked softly.

Jonathan felt the lump welling in his throat as he heard those words, but he simply smiled as he cupped her face in his hands. "Honey," he said softly, "if that's what you want, then I would be honored to be your father." Linda smiled and hugged him as tightly as she dared; Jonathan fought back his own tears as he held the young girl in his arms. After a few moments, he pulled back, smiling down at her.

"Would you like to give me a hand with the chores?" he asked. "I could teach you how to milk the cows." Linda nodded, and Jonathan gave her back her glasses. After slipping them on, Jonathan put his arm around his new daughter, and the two headed down the porch steps before heading toward the barn.

THE END


End file.
